Harry Potter and The Child of Prophecies
by deconneur
Summary: Post HBP. Harry is framed and sent to Azkaban for ten years. The wizarding world is in ruins. The 'Power he knows not' has been destroyed. Will an unwilling hero be enough to save them all? Dark!Harry but Light sided.
1. Death and betrayal

Disclaimer: As everybody has guessed I'm not JK Rowling, therefore no money is made with this fic, not copyright infraction, etc. If you recognize it hers if you don't it's mine. ;-)

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Chapter 1: Death and betrayal

Life had not been very gentle with Harry Potter. When he was a baby he had big bright green eyes everybody loved. His mother used to say it was the window to his soul. His father, who wasn't as poetical as his wife, just claimed it was the stomach's dipstick. He claimed he didn't see anything but the hunger in them. Of course, nobody knew if it was true or not as James Potter had the earned reputation of a prang master. Unfortunately, nobody will ever know if it was true or not as James and Lily Potter were murdered by Lord Voldemort, the evilest dark lord to ever walk on Earth shortly after Harry's first birthday.

Harry had survived the encounter. He gained a few things and lost a lot of them. Love was gone forever as were his parents. He gained a lighting bold scar on his forehead, the title of the Boy-Who-Lived and a first veil of shadows in his magnificent eyes. But nobody noticed the former as he was sent to live with his relatives who didn't care. If fact they even applied themselves to diminish the light in the little boy's stare. Until he received a letter…

This letter brought him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to a world where nobody knew him but his 'famous' scar. A world where magic was everywhere. A world where he met more hate he could have conceived (especially in the form of his potion master, _Professor_ Snape), where he had to fight Trolls, Dragons, Dementors (happiness suckers, literally), Giant Snakes who could kill with a stare and many other creatures. He also found friendship and death… Death because he had to kill to survive (once) but especially because he had to see people dying and getting killed. All of these things kept adding shadows in his eyes. So much that some found his stare as old as Headmaster Dumbledore's.

The old man had been an authority figure full of induce respect to many but especially to Harry Potter. His funerals the day before had pained the young man. He had felt his eyes extinguish themselves. No more light, no more will to fight, just pain, suffering and grieving.

Harry was seated on his bed in the 6th years Gryffindor dormitory pondering what to do. The next day he'll be returning with the rest of the students to London, but he needed answers. In fact he acknowledged to himself, he didn't really need them but he desperately wanted them. He knew he should stop to think about the old Headmaster; after all he was the one (and probably only one) to say "Death is but the next great adventure". He wouldn't want people to dwell on his departure for this new journey. Still he had taken actions and decisions Harry didn't understand and he really wanted to.

Startling his roommate Neville Longbottom by his sudden action, Harry jumped to his feet and left the dormitory. Once in the common room he was stopped, once.

"Harry…" said a small voice.

His eyes met Ginny Weasley's. _God she's so beautiful_ he thought. But he had important things to do and his resolve to break up with her was disappearing faster each second he was by her side. He looked at her with his dead eyes. She bowed her head, a small tear gliding along her chick before moving aside. He exited the room the fastest he could and went half walking – half running to the North Tower. There he stepped on the silvery ladder that met him and found himself in Sybill Trelawney's classroom. The divination teacher was there staring at him with her big bug-like eyes.

"Come in, Mr. Potter. Come in" she said in a soft voice "I was expecting you."

"You did?" asked Harry bewildered before noticing how rude this kind of question was to a 'supposed' Seer.

She laughed a bit. "Yes indeed. I was. Of course, thank to the Eye I knew you'd come today, but common sense was enough to know you wanted to know more on how I became employed in Hogwarts. Am I right or am I right Mr. Potter?"

"Err… You… You are right, Professor." Answered Harry astonished the _old fraud_ could have something right for once.

"Then come here, sit next to me." She said nicely, extending her hand to him.

Harry walked to her and was politely going to sit down when he touched her hand. The instant he felt her skin he knew he had made a mistake.

Professor Trelawney's eyes roll in the back of her head, she went stiff and started talking in a voice that wasn't her own but he'd recognized from everywhere: she was going to make a prediction, and as usual it wasn't going to be good.

"THE PIECES ARE IN PLACE… THE PAWN IS TOO FAR ON THE BOARD TO PROTECT OR ATTACK… THE QUEEN AS BEEN TAKEN… THE FATE OF THE PARENT FROM ABOVE HE WILL MEET… PREDICTIONS OF THE PAST WILL BE BENT… OTHERS WILL FIND THEIR RECIPIENT… DEATH IS BUT THE NEXT GREAT ADVENTURE… NOTHING IS PERMANENT BUT THE PIECES ARE IN PLACE… THE PAWN IS TOO FAR ON THE BOARD TO PROTECT OR ATTACK…"

Harry quickly conjured a quill and parchment. He managed to write everything down and putt it in his pocket before Professor Trelawney awoke form her state.

"What were you saying dear?"

"I just wanted to say good bye in fact professor. Professor Dumbledore hired you because you are good at what you're doing and that's all I need to know. I want to thank you for your teaching. You gave me a lot of things to contemplate, Professor" answered promptly Harry. After all he had rehearsed this speech in advance for everyone as he didn't have any intention to come back the next year. His destiny wasn't to go to school but to find and destroy Voldemort (and his horcruxes in the way).

"Well, that's very sweet of you my dear. Come and have tea with me in the fall, will you?" she responded pleased by his flattery.

"Of course, professor. If you'll excuse me, I really must be going'

"I know. Go, my dear. Happy holidays, Mr. Potter"

"You to professor."

Harry quickly made his way to his common room, hoping to discuss what he had just witnessed with his best friends. Hermione Granger with her analytical mind will be able to help him and Ron Weasley was a chess champion. If someone could understand anything about the board and the pawn… and the attack… and the defense… it was him.

Harry kept rushing went suddenly his world became black and he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, Harry found himself spread eagle at the bottom of the stairs. Looking at them he found they were wet. He had the worst Dark Lord on his tail and he nearly killed himself with wet stairs!

"Stupid Filch! Can't even… Ouch!" Harry's tirade was stopped by the pounding on the back of his head.

He managed to sit down but had to acknowledge he couldn't get up for a moment. He stayed there, sat on the cold hard stone floor and read this new prophecy (more a puzzle to him) again and again.

The more he sat there, the less it made sense but for two parts:

_THE QUEEN AS BEEN TAKEN_ obviously meant Dumbledore. He had been recently murdered (taken) and he could do nearly everything, like the queen in chess.

_PREDICTIONS OF THE PAST WILL BE BENT_ probably meant he will get killed or kill Voldemort but something else would happen as well…

And who was the pawn? Was it him? Or not? Did…

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. In a quick movement he got up bringing a wave of dizziness in front of his eyes. Once it was passed he bolted away to the Gryffindor Common Room, still taking caution paces on the stairs. He quickly gave the password to the Fat Lady and…

… met a spectacle he would have wanted to never meet.

The entire Gryffindor House was in a circle around Professor McGonagall and the school Nurse. Ron was on his back, his eyes staring to the stone ceiling, not moving. Everyone was quiet when Madam Pomfrey got up and whispered

"I'm sorry Minerva, there was nothing I could do. The curse was… It… It was the Killing Curse. He died in an instant. I really wished…"

"It's all right Poppy, I understand. You did the best you could I can't expect better from you. You've already done more than I…" answered Professor McGonagall but she was cut by Harry's cry.

"RON!"

Whatever reaction he had been expecting wasn't the one he received. Everyone turned to him and turned their wand to him. Even the professors.

"What the…"

"Shut up!" "Don't you dare move" "I can do the killing curse too, Potter" "Came to finish the job?"

The common room begun to fill itself with angry shouts directed to Harry until they all silenced due to a big bang. Hermione was near Ginny's sobbing form, tears flowing freely on her face, her wand raised in the air. She calmly walked to Harry and murmured.

"Why Harry? Because he had just asked me out or really from jealousy?"

"What? Hermione… I… What are you… I don't understand…" stuttered Harry but he never managed to for a coherent sentence as Hermione rammed her knee in his groin. He doubled under the pain to receive a well placed blow in the side of the head from Neville Longbottom.

For the second time this night Harry Potter lost consciousness and there it wasn't due to his lack of attention.

..ooOoo..

Steven Ronston was 6'2 feet tall, he had red hair and pale blue eyes. It was early summer therefore he only had a thin mustache but in winter he turned it in a full beard. To keep the cold out he said, but the truth was he didn't really want to spend time to shave and had to make a deal with his wife: Half of the year shaved and the rest undisturbed.

On this early June's day he was on a boat. Unfortunately for him he wasn't fishing but in duty. He and five other colleagues escorted a prisoner to Askaban. His eyes rested pensively on his charge. Unlike all the others he kept quiet, like if he knew his pleads would meet deaf ears, or if he knew they couldn't do anything, even if the wanted in the first place. Or maybe he didn't care. Maybe he though that without the dementors he'll be fine. If only he knew…

Auror Ronston's squadron had two things to deliver. One was the prisoner but the second… It came directly from the Department of Mysteries. It was a device for the guards. One for every guard but only for them. It would protect the Aurors but will create the exact same effect as the dementors on the prisoners except for two things: they worked on animagi (at least the Black fiasco had served one purpose) and couldn't take a soul away. Ronston shuddered once again: it was said these devices contained bits of dementors in them. He kept his eyes fixed on the prisoner when a whiff of wind blew his fringe of, revealing a scar. A lighting bolt scar! He was escorting Harry Potter to Askaban!

In the mean time, Harry was thinking back to the last three days. He had been judged.

More than half the Gryffindors sworn they had seen him have a brawl with Ron, they said Harry was jealous of the Weasley family and killed Ron in a fit of anger claiming he didn't have the right to have what he didn't. Hermione spoke of his obsession of trading his money for the Weasley family. Ginny of his dead eyes, of the eyes of a murderer. Even Sybill Trelawney spoke of his strange good-bye message, like if knew he wouldn't be coming, of how he run from her classroom like a demon.

He was still a minor, the Veritaserum was refused to him especially as his Uncle and Aunt refused to speak to the ministry employee and therefore didn't give their consent as his guardians. In fact it didn't really matter because he had '_dropped_' his wand near the body in his hast. The _Prior Incantatem_ proved it was used to cast the Avada Kedavra. As Mrs. Bones had put it "an unforgivable Mr. Potter. Didn't you expect to be forgiven because you survived one? I think not. All in favor of a life sentence in Azkaban under the effect of the induced dementors?"

When he proclaimed his innocence a journalist asked him if they had to believe everything he said because two years ago he had said the truth. Harry had shut up as everyone laughed and sniggered.

Once the sentence decided he had been allowed to see one person, but Ginny refused, then Hermione, all the Weasleys, Remus, Hagrid, even Neville. No one wanted to see the 'monster'. He had spent two days in agony when he had understood one part of the prophecy: _PREDICTIONS OF THE PAST WILL BE BENT_. He was sent to Askaban, therefore he couldn't kill Voldemort but the other way around was still possible… or maybe that was what 'BENT' referred to… People will believe him dead and Hermione will tell the prophecy, but the prophecy wouldn't be succeeded, he had to take actions. He asked to see the only goblin he knew: Griphook. To his amazement, his request had been acknowledged. If anyone had found that odd, nobody said anything.

He remembered the interview. Griphook had come not knowing why but with all his account data. As a goblin he wasn't stupid enough to believe Harry Potter wanted to see him for his wonderful personality and good look, after all he hardly knew the boy. He had seen him once and that was all. Therefore if he was requested it was certainly for business. Still he knew the Ministry would allow it thus he hid the files under goblin magic: undetectable to humans.

Griphook entered the tiny cell. Harry Potter was lying on a straw mattress but got up quickly and offered him the small stool while he sat on the floor. The accountant could hardly believe his eyes and ears. A wizard sitting below a goblin? Even on the verge of death none would do that. He set the books on the stool and joined Harry on the floor.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter"

"Good evening Griphook. Thanks for coming and bringing news"

"News Mr. Potter?" inquired the goblin

"Yes, I didn't know it was evening"

"Oh… You know it came to me as a shock that you still remembered my name"

"Why? You are the first goblin I ever talk to, and in fact the only one but for a few 'Hello, I'd like to get some money from my vault' and 'Here is my key'."

"Yes, I understand." Answered Griphook before posing for a moment "Mr. Potter why did you ask for my presence?"

"Aaah! Griphook, always the businessman he?"

"Always, Mr. Potter, always."

"Okay, well I wanted to know the state of my finances if you had any data with you but as I see you don't…" started Harry.

"No to worry Mr. Potter, not to worry" cut the goblin revealing the books

"Harry please, Harry".

"Harry then. Here you have a trust fund originally filled with 6,000 galleons, currently holding 2,863 galleons 9 knuts I might add, to pay for your studies, supplies and a bit of…'prank material'?"

"Certainly an idea from my father" Harry answered smiling "Not sure my mother approved though"

"Then there is a second vault containing the personal assets of Mr. Sirius Black. The amount was 24,973 galleons 3 sickles and 1 knut until last year when he has been declared free, dead and unjustly imprisoned by the minister of magic. All the three at the same time, I might add. At this time the amount of 1,200,000 galleons has been added to the vault."

"Nice pay" commented Harry "but no money can heal you from twelve years of dementors exposure."

"Then you have the Black and Potter Family Vault. Both contained books, weapons, money and heirlooms, quantities unknown to us. We only know that both are assured to the maximum in case of breaking and have blood recognition wards.

"Finally, there are your parents' vaults. Your mother's holds only money to a total of 3,934,562 galleons, thanks to smart investments she made years ago I might add. Your father's… well, we don't know what's in it but he required the same securities as for the family vault.

"Ah, there is also the property of a 'flying motorcycle'?" asked Griphook. Seeing Harry nod he kept on "of a destroyed property in Godric Hollow, of a house elf name Kreatcher, of a house in … err, placed under the Fidelus Charm apparently, of a manor in London, a cottage in Hogsmead, a few shops in Knockturn Alley, one in Diagon Alley (Ollivander I might add) and a small castle in Scotland."

Harry took some time to ingest all these information. Then setting up his mind he looked at Griphook. "Ok, here is what I want to do…"

Harry was taken out of his musing by Auror Ronston.

"We're here, Mr. Potter. Please come nicely or I'll have to stun you"

Harry followed calmly and was lead to a cell. The castle was ominous and stank of decay but the most oppressing was his first view to his new 'home': nothing but four walls and a bucket.

The Auror sniggered. "I hope you like it Potter" one of them said. Harry didn't have time to reply as they engaged their devices. He heard voices

'_Kill the spare'_

'_Avada Kedavra'_

'_What do you think of Harry Potter?'_

'_He's a beast, a monster, a murder. When I think I once loved him I feel dirty'_

'_Severus… Severus'_

'_Avada Kedavra'_

'_SIRIUS! SIRIUS!'_

'_There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing… He's gone'_

'_Not Harry Please… have mercy… have mercy…'_

'_Avada Kedavra'_

And Harry knew no more.

..ooOoo..

Harry woke up in his cell. An auror opened the door.

"Today is Christmas Potter. Enjoy it. It's a dementor free day. If you're lucky someone will come to see you but I fail to see why someone would want to see a murderer"

Harry painfully sat up and waited. Somebody will come to see him. Maybe Remus or Hagrid…

Harry was still waiting when the devices where re-engaged and felt into unconsciousness again.

Days passed, followed by weeks then by months. The outside world kept on living but Harry was oblivious to it. He started to loose his sanity until he could hardly do or understand anything. His mind destroyed itself, trapped in its own memories. The people who once knew him graduated, found job, got married, started families… They lived their lives. He only lived to live. No goal no purpose.

Voldemort had been very happy with both Dumbledore and Harry out of the picture. The attacks had increased to a point where no one could do anything. Ten to twenty Wizarding houses were attacked every night, muggles died by hundreds. The few caught Death Eaters were rookies who never made it to the cells: they were freed before.

The Ministry was trying to do something but its main job was to hide magic to the muggles and even that started to be very difficult with the number of pictures and movies of Dark Marks. Nobody wanted to work for it anymore, it was too dangerous. The number of Aurors decreased so much nobody wanted to be one: they weren't more than fifty for all Britain, that is to say, no more back-up, no help when the shit hit the fans and low results. The requirements dropped to a point were all you had to do was to have a wand and be able to perform a stunning spell. It helped increase the manpower and the security feelings but gave a final blow to law enforcement's image and capability.

Hogwarts was still untaken but at least one student was killed each semester. Still it was much more secure than home-schooling.

The only bright point was that people started to defend themselves, a bit, when attacks happened but weren't able to really do anything against the Death Eaters's level, especially with the destruction provided by the Dark Arts.

No one knew who to trust, who was a Death Eater or who was under the Imperious Curse. Fear was everywhere and kept growing. People didn't say voice it but knew that it was only a question of time before _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ conquered England. Things were worst than during the First War. Hope seemed to disappear. There was no more hero, only death.

..ooOoo..

Harry woke up in his cell. An auror opened the door.

"Today is Christmas Potter. I suggest you try to enjoy the maximum of it. It's a dementor free day after all. If you're lucky someone will come to see you, but they didn't this last decade, I don't think they will this year either"

Harry didn't move nor said anything. With the little bit of his mind out of the fog he waited as he did every Christmas for one single thing. Somebody will come to see him. Maybe Remus… Yes Remus, he hadn't come the previous years but maybe this time…

Harry was still waiting when the devices where re-engaged and he felt into unconsciousness again.

..ooOoo..

Hermione Granger was at her desk when her boss entered her office.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes sir?" she answered.

"I was looking at this prophecy you gave me…"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure it's genuine?" he enquired.

"Well I'm not certain, but pretty sure, Har-… Mr. Potter gave it to me a year before his incarceration, and I don't see why he would have lied to me at the time." Answered Hermione puzzled. It was the first time her work for the Ministry was questioned.

"Right, I want you to go to Azkaban and give some truth serum to Mr. Potter. I want to know who made this prophecy, when, where, how he came to know it. You can take an auror with you."

"Yes sir."

The man stopped in his tracks and said "Oh, and I also want to know where Dumbledore and him went the night of the old man's murder. Give him Veritaserum then" and he kept on going as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't asked to one of his men (well women in this case) to interrogate the man she hated the most _because_ he once _was_ her best friend.

Hermione didn't wait long. She had wanted an occasion like this one for years. She wanted to know why Harry Potter had killed Ron Weasley, and she had the authorization to do. She didn't care about the prophecy and Voldemort's horcruxes, she already had these answers. She wanted the ones to her own questions and she'll have them.

Making her decision, Hermione hurried to the elevator. If she was lucky Neville would still be on shift and would agree to come with her.

..ooOoo..

A pop alerted the guard. Someone had reached the island by apparition. Therefore it was someone who came from the ministry and didn't have the dark mark, but better safe than sorry. Eric Jones dropped his arm when he encountered Neville's wand. As an auror he knew the Longbottoms' story. The parents' gone crazy and the son, the only auror to gain Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody's respect. No a small feat. And he was accompanied by Unspeakable Granger! Well, sure thing: those two weren't Death Eaters. He left them pass, happy not to have been cursed.

Hermione felt her head spin a little when she came in range of the dementor effect devices but her Occlumency walls held solid. In a few minutes she found herself in front of a cell. She didn't want to open it but she had to. She deactivated the device and open the door.

Harry Potter had not changed in the ten years she hadn't seen him but for his weight. He looked like he was still sixteen. He was still small with unruly hair (long one now) and an unshaved bear. He looked like a toy she once had, a child with adult's features. Close to her she felt Neville debating with himself if he should rush to help him or torture his former friend. She didn't want to have these doubts. She checked his health sheet. Apparently he was force feed once a day since his arrival as if he had had the Kiss of the dementors. She hardly had the time to ponder if he might have had it when Harry moved.

He opened his eyes and looked at his company. His stare was empty, it was like he didn't see nor hear anything.

She had to bid back some tears, he looked so frail, ready to be broken. Neville took matters in his hands and said, in a business tone voice:

"Mr. Potter, we are mandated here by the Ministry of Magic to ask you questions. As you are a legal adult you'll be injected Veritaserum to ensure the truth of your answers. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't do anything. Neville opened his mouth and left three drops of the potion fall on Harry's tong.

"Hurry Hermione. He is in bad shape. He might not survive the drops, be quick" murmured Neville after a quick computation which included Harry's weight, size, age and the potency of the potion.

Horrified, Hermione turned to Harry.

"What is your name?"

"Harry James Potter"

"How old are you?"

"… I don't know..."

"How old were you when you went to jail?"

"I was…"

Harry started to show discomfort. Neville panicked "Hurry, Hermione!"

"Answer the question!"

"I was sixteen soon to… soon to be… seventeen".

"Why did you kill Ron Weasley?" she asked. This was the only reason she was there, she had been looking for this answer for years; still she didn't got quite what she expected.

"… I… I didn't… I didn't kill him."

"Who did?" asked Neville.

"I… don't… know."

"Where were you when the murder happened?" asked Hermione falling to her knees and trying to keep back tears at the wrongness she was facing. He hadn't done it. She had hurt him and sent to jail and he hadn't done it. After Sirius she should have been more careful, she should… She was taken out of her musing by Harry's unarticulated voice.

"Trelawney gave… new prophecy… stairs… unconscious… think… wet stairs… not sure…"

"Hermione!" interjected Neville. "We've got to give him the anti-serum. He's going to die"

But she didn't listen to him. She went closer to Harry, tear flooding freely on her face. She took his hand and felt a piece of paper. She spared a look at it, a prophecy… One sentence gave her pain like fire on her flesh: _THE FATE OF THE PARENT FROM ABOVE HE WILL MEET_. Like is godfather he went to jail as an innocent…

She looked down. "Harry… I…"

" 'm sorry. Didn't do it…"

Hermione's mind was working furiously. Harry couldn't have fooled the potion so… Potion! Maybe someone took Polyjuice to look like Harry. But how did he/she get his wand? Didn't he say he was unconscious? Knowing she'll have to interrogate him later she gently placed her finger on his lips. "Shhh, keep your strength, we're taking you out Harry."

But in the heat of the moment, Hermione forgot about the truth-serum which wormed its way in Harry's body. Thus, it's in the arms of the woman whom he loved as a sister but betrayed him that Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived(-To-Be-Sent-In-Jail-Despite-His-Innocence), the prophesized child, expired.

Potions, spells even CPR, nothing worked. The next day's headlines were reading: "HARRY POTTER, FOUND INNOCENT, DIED IN AZKABAN".

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Please Review. It's my first fic and really need them to progress and write a story you'll. Ideas welcome. Thanks 


	2. Consequences

Disclaimers Obviously I'm not J.K.Rowling, no money made, etc. If you recognize it it's hers and if you don't it's mine.

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Chapter 2: Consequences

Harry Potter's death hit the Wizarding world very hard. Literally. When his body stopped functioning his magic moved on, having several effects. Nearly all magical beings and peoples of England felt something. Those practicing the Dark Arts were knocked out but felt happy once awoken. Those who didn't delve into this kind of magic received a feeling of calmness and friendship, it lasted only a few seconds and they were left with a feeling of loneliness and wrongness. No one understood what it was or where it came from until they read the _Daily Prophet_. Some of them didn't even notice it as they were too preoccupied with events of ones' lifetime.

Hermione and Neville for once didn't notice anything as they were trying to revive of no avail their friend long lost.

Pavarti Patil was a usually very quiet person. Those who knew her from Hogwarts told everyone she was once a first class gossiper with a good look, but it was hard to believe it. Since the death of her best friend, Lavender Brown, she had become very quiet and hardly talked to anyone even her twin sister Padma with whom she shared a flat in London. She kept on with her work for the ministry. She was very content with it. She always had had Divination in high esteem; therefore she was more than happy to be in charge of the Hall of Prophecies. It was always quiet. People hardly came there, she just had to make sure nobody tried to take prophecies which didn't concern them, fill the new ones and once or twice a year allow someone to retrieve one. But this day seven little spheres lit furiously for a minute or two before the protection that surrounded them went down. Pavarti stared stupidly to one of them. It was the first prophecy ever recorded. It was said it came from Merlin himself or was it Rowena Ravenclaw? She didn't remember but knew something had happened. She collected the small balls of glass in a wooden casket, knowing someone would come the next day looking for something different from the ordinary. She didn't expect that this someone would be her Hogwarts roommate Hermione Granger, nor could she have expected the front page her former classmate gave her silently when she retrieved the small box.

Dobby the House-Elf was happily working in the kitchen of Hogwarts castle, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Suddenly his magic went off. The twelve dozen of plates he was hovering crashed on the floor. He felt his core boiling, his stomach squeezed. All his clothes disappeared and were replaced by… black robes! He just had the time to hear the other elves gasps before being knock out by a powerful wave of magic.

Auror Ginny Weasley was at Ollivanders'. Her second wand wasn't very good; she had troubles getting it to work. She wanted to customize it. She was there, in the backroom, walking along the shelves looking for the best suitable ingredients, refusing to look at the content in the jars. The few she had read had raised her back hair, she didn't know what was worst between Dementor skin, vampire blood (forcibly taken or willingly given), werewolf saliva or Basilisk venom. She hoped she'd be attracted to something nicer like Vela hair, Unicorn freely given blood, Phoenix tears or maybe Gryffin scales. Suddenly she felt calmness, friendship and love wash over her and then pain. A strange pain, like a mental wound not physical, but it was still terrible to cope with it. Ginny felt to her knees and tears felt freely from her eyes. Something had been taken from her; she didn't know what but she knew she'll keep this feeling of loneliness all her life.

Griphook was an ordinary Gringotts employee. He was taking people to their vaults. He would have had at least one promotion during the seventeen years he did this job but for a thing he did ten years ago. He had taken a will from a prisoner and had made modifications which weren't very legal as the man wasn't yet seventeen at the time. His boss had learned about it and had been very clear. If these actions proved to be justified he would be rewarded beyond his wildest dreams, if not he'd be fired without a glance. In the mean time, all his promotions, primes and such were frozen. Still he had no second thought; Harry Potter had been one of the rare to be civil to him and clearly the only wizard to ever be friendly to a goblin for decades. He knew his actions would be rewarded, he just didn't know when. The second Harry Potter's magic separated itself from the young man's corpse a ball in the goblin's pocket heat up. Today he was going to know. He rushed to his desk and looked in his drawer. He extirpated a small blue crystal. The second he saw the color, a feral grin appeared on his face. He was rich, revered and would never ride the cart to the vaults ever… unless he wanted to of course.

Headmistress McGonagall was calmly eating her lunch in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Lazily she trailed her eyes on the students to make sure none of them made any trouble. A music started to play, seemingly from nowhere, one she hadn't hear for years, one she couldn't help but enjoy and dread at the same time. It was the phoenix song of the dead. Nobody moved they were just listening. A burst of red and gold flames near the Head table startled the students, the teachers just looked as Phawkes appeared, planning above the table. A few seconds later, a burst of blue and white flames occurred, reveling another phoenix. People stared at the two 'singers' when bursts of green, red, gold, silver, dark blue, light blue, purple, crimson and white revealed dozens of phoenixes. All of them sang, in majority above the Gryffindor table. As the last note disappeared in the air the magical birds gave a cry and disappeared. If the song had been enough to make the students and professors feeling like to cry, it was nothing compared to this last sound. All the wizards and witches felt the reproach in this shriek and none knew why. Minerva McGonagall figured this show would be in the next edition of the newspaper, next to the Death Eaters' attacks. The next morning it was with blessed ignorance she looked at the front cover of her paper before fainting.

At the magical zoo Erwan was cleaning the owls' cages when a beautiful specimen of snowy owls, a female at that, felt from her perch. She seemed to be sick, like depressive but owls don't do depressions, do they?

Remus Lupin was seated reading a book with a butterbeer next to him. His companion, Nymphadora Tonks was resting next to him. She was seven months pregnant. As a metamorphmagus she was one of the few who could have a child with a werewolf. Apparently the child transformed during the full moon until its birth and only someone whose inside where hard as steel (or could be made hard as steel) could survive. It was supposed that at the time of the birth the baby was immunized to werewolves' bite. According to an old text Mundungus Fletcher had dig up for them the child was also supposed to be able to cure lycanthropy with its blood; but Remus didn't care, he was happy enough with a family (and also he didn't want to get his hopes to high). Suddenly a terrible and blinding pain went through his brain. He felt his wolfish part in agony. He let a howl of pain and sorrow escape his lips as tears felt through his shut eyes. In an instant Tonks was next to him holding his head in her arms, asking what was wrong. An individual of his pack was dead and he knew who it was. Strangely he felt sorrow much stronger than he had ever experienced. He finally managed to sob "Harry is dead". He didn't understand the reason behind his extended pain until the next morning news: it was also guilt that fretted his heart.

..ooOoo..

Consternation passed on the international Wizarding community. Lord Voldemort was stronger than he had ever been. His Death Eaters were wreaking havoc without opposition, Albus Dumbledore was dead and they had wrongly sent their savior to jail where he died before the age of twenty-seven. They knew they were doomed and the Dark Lord agreed. Each community feared dark attacks in commemoration and their wish was granted. In order to thank them Voldemort ordered attacks in every single country with one single mission: kill all the dark haired wizards with green eyes of the age of twenty to twenty-five and carve a lighting bolt on their forehead. Forty-three young men lost their lives in the Dark Lord's acknowledgement of Harry Potter's death.

Twelve people didn't fear attacks. They feared a dead man's tale. Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Fred and George Weasley, Rubeus Hagrid, Fleur Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks and Bill Weasley had all received the same letter.

**_Gringotts Bank _**

Potter/Black Estate

Dear Sir, Madam, Miss,

You are required to assist to the reading of Harry James Potter's_** will today at 10am. In case of incapacity send someone with a dispensation. If you aren't present and no one replaces you your share will be divided between the present members. **_

Griphook

Executor

It was with dread that all of them took seat in the reading room of Gringotts. Maybe he was paranoid but Bill felt that this Griphook fellow didn't seem to like them at all and yet they had been very polite with him. The fifteen sat down; Ginny had come with her fiancé Dean Thomas, Fleur with her younger sister Gabrielle and Hagrid with his wife Olympe Maxime-Hagrid, another half-giant, and headmistress of the French school of magic Beauxbatons. Griphook and Bill eyed each other for an instant before the goblin spoke.

"Welcome to Gringotts. We are here for a will reading so let's carry on."

The words were harsh and minimal. Bill tried to remember where he had heard of that Griphook before.

"Miss Granger, do you have it?" asked the goblin.

While Hermione produced a golden ball of glass the size of bludger, Bill remembered. He cleared his throat to gather attention and fixed his eyes on the goblin.

"Executor Griphook? Before we start I'd have a question."

"What is it?" replied the banker with obvious irritability.

"I heard you were ah… hum… in a bad situation - if I may say - a few years ago and remained at the cart ride with no promotion's possibility. How is it that you are the executor here?" continued Bill as if he was having a nice conversation with a colleague (which he was in fact, except that the conversation wasn't nice…)

"It has been sorted out with Mr. Potter's passing"

Bill frowned. What Harry's death had to do with it?

"I'm sorry but I fail to see the connection."

"Well, Mr. Weasley" answered Griphook clearly irritated "if you insist; maybe you could start by giving us a crash course in wizard customs. What is this golden sphere?"

"It's a memorimatus" answered Bill with no hesitation or understanding.

"Very well Mr. Weasley! What is it for?"

"It's the equivalent of a pensive except that it doesn't take a few memories but the integrality of the person's memory. It only used after death if the person previously agreed willingly or the magical imprint won't work." Replied Bill as if reading from a dictionary.

"Very good! What is its special feature?" asked Griphook with a smile.

"Well if the person wants, he or she can choose times of his/her life to show to various people or to only a few."

"Good job Mr. Weasley" Griphook said ironically "and what does it entail?"

"A second person has to view the memories to be able to magically mark the moments and emotions in order to let others view…"

Bill trailed when revelation came to him. Griphook was watching him with a toothy grin.

"You mean… You were the one to… you marked Harry's memories?" asked Bill in disbelief.

The goblin merely nodded.

"But… It's… You need to have the other person's total trust … You are a goblin… You could have killed him… It's… It's usually done only bet-… between lovers… As a proof… proof of respect and care from both parts" mumbled Bill.

Griphook's face dimmed.

"Oooh, and I supposed you would have done it for him Mr. Weasley? No? Maybe you Miss Granger? No? But weren't you best friends? Or you Miss Weasley? He asked for all of you. None of you went there! You'd better no try to lecture me on the risks between goblins and humans' magic interaction because you were asked and YOU REFUSED!"

The room was silent. Griphook was calming down and the wizards processed their fear and horror. First, all of them agreed on one thing: you don't know what anger is until you've seen an angry goblin. Then it occurred to them that Harry had to rely on a goblin he had only seen once to do one of the most personal and intimate things in the Wizarding world.

Griphook waited to see their shocked faces before chuckling. He placed the memorimatus at the center of the table and started it. The sphere glowed before projecting a three dimensional picture of Harry with his dates of birth and death. He looked like he was at the moment of his death: small, skinny, unshaved, with long greasy hair, in rags and with only bones and skin. Molly and Ginny Weasley started whipping in the arms of respective husband and future one. Hagrid was howling. The others were just stuck by the vision of this unknown person they had considered as a friend, son or brother. Griphook taped once on the ball.

The image changed to the one of another Harry. Younger considering his hair was short, he didn't have a bear and had more flesh (if only a bit). He started to speak.

"Wotcher everyone, well I believe I'm dead. Something very delayed I guess." He posed for a second as he chuckled. "I think I shouldn't be scared. It is supposed to be the next great adventure after all. I should be with my parents, Sirius and Dumbledore. Unfortunately, if you see this message it means I've never seen Griphook again and that I died in Azkaban. It also means you probably believe I'm guilty of Ron's murder. I guess I can only ask for your forgiveness not to have been there to avoid it." He paused again, just enough time to stop his tears from falling. "I asked for twelve persons to be there and I hope you are all here. Not because it means you might forgive me but because it means you didn't die in the years between my imprisonment and now. I'd like you to see what happened to me this night for you to know how it was for me. With the help of Griphook I've been able to mark major events of my life, starting with the early childhood - these ones are for you Remus – until two days ago, that is to say the trial. The will is going to be read after if you don't mind. Goodbye. Know that I love you all."

The image faded as the light dimmed in the room.

For the following hours the fifteen of them just watched the show. It started with Harry in a cradle with Remus, his father, Sirius, his mother and Peter; then went to Voldemort's attack and the Dursleys. They watched the games of 'Harry Hunting', the gifts for Dudley and kicks for Harry, the bits of accidental magic, the visit to the zoo and the boa. The saw Hagrid from Harry's point of view, his encounters with Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the twins. They saw his thrill at flying, the encounter with the Troll, the events at the end of the first year, the flying car, the Polyjuice potion, Hermione as a cat, as he battled the Basilisk for Ginny's life. They felt the cold of Dementors, how he forced himself to face it again and again in order to master the Patronus Charm. They heard Sybill Trelawney give one prophecy. They saw him drive away hundreds of dementors, pass the various Triwizard tasks. Saw him as he witnessed the rebirth of Voldemort, as he dueled him, as he was attacked by dementors, as he was judged, as he carved '_I must not tell lies_' in his hand, as he taught the DA, as they fought the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic. They stared at his use of the Cruciatus Curse, at Voldemort's and Dumbledore's duel, as Trelawney's first prophecy was revealed. They saw his classes with Dumbledore about Tom Riddle, their journey to find a horcrux which wasn't one. They saw Snape murder Dumbledore in cold blood. They watched Harry's journey to Professor's Trelawney class, the prophecy, his return, his lost of consciousness, as he sat on the floor unable to move only to finish at the end of Hermione's knee and Neville's fist. They barely managed to see the trial, their own testimonies, his ignored begging to have Veritaserum, finally it stopped.

They knew memorimati involved emotions but never could have guessed the number of feelings of pain and abandon Harry had suffered in his life. They were full of self loathing. The room was silent but for thirteen crying persons (Dean and Olympe were too busy taking care of their husband and fiancée to grieve). They couldn't take anymore, they had send there brother, son, love, friend to hell without reason and they knew it.

Harry's face appeared once again. There were tears on his face. He took a few seconds to compose himself and find a way to talk without choking. "I want you to know I don't hold it against you. It hurt me yes, but I understand your position. I had time to think you know. I figure someone must have used some Polyjuice then knock me cold when I came back to the common room, steal my wand, kill Ron in front of everybody, drop it and leave like if I had realized I had made a blunder. Simple but ingenious, like every plan involving Polyjuice. You couldn't have known and I probably would have fallen for it too, so please don't mortify yourselves and live to the fullest like if you might die tomorrow" he paused "because you might."

The memorimatus turn off. Griphook gave it back to Hermione and place another sphere of glass. He tapped on it once. Harry's face appeared again.

"Okay, now to the fun stuff. Guys, smile you are well-off. Ok so it goes this way: two shares for each couple, that is to say Bill & Fleur, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley and Remus & Tonks. Remus you'd better still be with Tonks because if you left her I'll come back from the dead just to kick your wolfish ass. Hermione and Ginny got two shares each. The twins got two shares too, but that's one for each of you guys as at the latest news you still shared everything. One share for Hagrid and Neville. If one of you isn't with you anymore but went with me, then share equally, same thing if I was cleared post-mortem and received money from the incompetent Ministry… Ooops? Maybe some of you work for it now...

"So, there are 2,863 galleons 9 knuts from my vault… I might add, isn't it Griphook?"

The goblin showed a true smile erasing decades of beliefs that goblins couldn't smile.

"There are also 1,224,973 galleons 3 sickles and 1 knut from Sirius Vault. Okay that is the easy part, as it is money. There is also the possession of Kreacher… which goes to… Reeemuuuusss! Torture him for me if you want, I don't care. He played a role in Sirius' death, it's only fair you got to deal with him. There is also the London house under Fidelus, this one goes at equal shares to Remus, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley and…" Harry stopped, took a breath and with a mischievous glint in the eyes started to sing "Nymphadora, Nymphadora, Nymphadora, oh I love the name of Nymphadora, not you Nymphadora? Nymphadora, Nymphadora, Nymphadora, oh I love the name of Nymphadora, not you Nymphadora?"

Tonks screams of outrage were enough to crack a smile on everybody's face. Harry picked up where he left.

"There is the property in Godric Hollow which goes tooo… Hermiioooooneeee! And finally, it appears I own Ollivanders' shop. It's seems to be a nice business and pays a good rent, the one who is going to have it will have to annoy the old man until he accept to give Hagrid a new wand – don't even think about refusing Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts! – okay, so the shop goes to… Giinnnnnnnnyyyyyyy! Congratulation.

"Well that's pretty much it, I sold Sirius old bike for a couple thousand galleons and gave them to Lycanthropy Society so I don't have anything left. The marauders map goes to the first child to go Hogwarts from all of you, my broom I'd like if it could be buried with me, my invisibly coat I gave it to Griphook, Hedwig has been taken from me and my wand well… you saw it being broken. Ok so now you have at least 80,000 galleons of hard gold each if not more so you only have to go and swear to Griphook you'll have fun with the money and not cry in a corner and he'll let you sign to have it. You'd better not lie to a goblin if you know what I mean… Bye, I love you all" With these final words Harry's face faded and the sphere turned black.

Griphook got up. "This morning I received a letter from the Ministry. Apparently, Miss Granger's got quite a reputation as Auror Longbottom. Mr. Potter has been cleared and 1,000,000 galleons were given as compensation; even though he won't use it I might add. 8,333 galleons will be transferred before the end of day to each of your vaults. If you could sign now, please…"

One after the other they went to sign the inheritance papers. Ginny, Hermione, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley all got a letter. The latter and Hermione opened it to find a small card with just a few words.

**I didn't do it.**

**I'm sorry I couldn't prevent it.**

**Harry**

Ginny's was more personal.

_Dear Ginny, _

It feels weird to know I'm writing a letter you'll only read when I'll be gone.

I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I guess you know why I broke up with you. I was too scared that someone used you to get to me, and I'm sorry if I hurt you. I feel like we share a bond. It could be my imagination or because your family feels they own me a life-debt but nothing happened when Ron left us… If I'm right it is a soul bond. In this case, I want to apologize because my death must have been physically painful for you wherever you've been.

Goodbye Ginny, keep a few thoughts of me. Live a good life and have lots of little red-hair.

I love you,

Harry

P.S. If what I believe is right I'll see you soon and we won't be dead but as you're reading this letter, I'm not so sure anymore…

Love

Ginny sobbed and murmured "I love you too Harry."

At this moment Dean Thomas erupted "I LOVE YOU TOO HARRY? WHAT THE HELL? EVEN GONE FOR YEARS AND NOW DEAD YOU LOVE HIM? WHAT AM I TO YOU? A REPLACEMENT? AFTER ALL I HAVE DONE TO GET YOU-" but Dean was cut by a well placed blow in his knee. He found himself on the floor, looking straight in the eyes of Griphook. The goblin was cold and menacing even though he was very small. He narrowed his eyes.

"I suggest you apologize to Miss Weasley now Mr. Thomas. Maybe an ice-cream will prove you point enough for her to forgive you." Griphook's voice was cold and harsh. The others nearly expected him to brandish an axe a cut Dean in two, but he just murmured with disgust "Get out of here wizard!" He then turned to the others "Good day to all, Moglik will show you the way out or to your vaults, according to your preferences." That said, he motioned to a goblin and exited the room.

One by one they left the bank without talking. Each one of them went back to working. The atmosphere was heavy and wouldn't be better for long.

..ooOoo..

"Thanks god, it's over" exclaimed Hermione, seating in the Ministry's canteen next to Neville and giving him a kiss on cheek.

"'Ow d'd 't go?"

"Don't speak with your mouth full Auror Longbottom" she said playfully.

"Yes Mam'" He answered once he had swallowed. "So, how did it go?"

"It was horrible" she just replied.

"And?"

"Well, they tested the truth serum we used on Harry, then asked me to go over my rapport thrice! As if writing it once wasn't enough! And then, they've been so nice… they've asked to go over Ron's death again, and again, and again for three bloody hours! Like it was going to change the story!" she fumed

"Hey relax. You would have been thinking about it anyway, no?" he ask cheerfully, or at least he tried, but his face was everything but happy.

"I know, Nev. I've been trying to find where we made a mistake and I can't find any reason. I mean he was a minor we couldn't use the Veritaserum and the Priori Incantatem proved it was his wand who cast the spell. Dear Merlin, we even saw him do it! So what went wrong?" Hermione lamented.

"That's probably there that it went wrong." said Neville as if it explained everything.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we all saw him, and yet we didn't do anything. They were there, Ron held at wand point and we just sat and stared. We should have acted, we would have known. If it was Harry he received an extremely strong memory charm – stronger than the ones we know - afterward as it managed to foul the potion. And if it wasn't him then… well we would have known in the hour." Neville paused and frowned "Still it must be someone we know…"

"What? What do you mean? What do _you_ know?" Hermione nearly screamed in his face.

"Nothing Herm', just a passing though…"

"Yeah right…" she said with a suspicious frown, the kind that says 'I know you're not totally honest with me but I'll let it pass for now'. "Still, we could have asked for another testimony after his majority, under Veritaserum this time." Hermione murmured.

"Herm, you know you can't open a case again without new evidence to back-up your demand. And we have shit. How do you think we could have succeeded? Furthermore we weren't even working for the Ministry and were still at school. Even if we had wanted to do something, which – I'm ashamed to admit – we didn't, we would never have managed it and we probably wouldn't have been the ones questioning him." Neville said softly.

"So? He wouldn't be dead then!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, make no mistake. He would be because they would have used Veritaserum too but we would still believe him guilty." Neville paused and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "You know what's worst? The more I think about it the more I believe we are, or at least were, friend with the one who did it."

"You know something." Hermione stated.

"Just testing some theories, nothing important." Neville quickly said.

"No, you know something" she pressed.

"I told you, nothing important" he answered her. _For God sake! Believe this and drop it Herm _he though.

"Tell me what you know" she nearly ordered him. "I know that you know something."

"Yes. I know it was the spell that killed Ron but also my fat ass which didn't move from its chair. Happy now?" spat Neville before getting up and leaving.

Hermione just stared at him, tears in her eyes. He was right they had their part of responsibility too. "Don't worry Longbottom, I'll know what it is you're hiding…" she murmured before going back to her office.

..ooOoo..

Griphook was happy. Everything went smoothly, exactly the way Harry had planned it but for the little yelling at the end; but Griphook knew how to deal with this kind of persons. Now he just had to wait. Wait for the second part of Harry's plan to work. If it did Griphook was going to be revered until his old days and will be buried under gold; a great wealth which might enable him to have a large family. If it didn't work, well he would become extremely rich and would get respect and reverence out of it so everything was for the best in the best of the worlds possible. Still he couldn't help but to think about it. Harry had two wills. One if he was killed by the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and one if he wasn't. The second had been activated, but Harry said he'd come back. How was that possible when his body was dead and his magic gone?

Griphook was taken back to the reality when a goblin open his door followed by a tall man hidden by a long dark cloak. The wizard, he didn't deal with muggles so he had to be one, entered and sat down without a word. When the door was closed he lowered his hood saying "How are things going my friend?"

Griphook smiled. Oh yes, today was a great day.

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**Ok. That was the second chapter. Hope you liked it. Please Review, it's my first fic, I need pointers.**

**For those who'd like to know what happened to the ones that still had a live, don't worry, it will come in time. Same thing for those who might not like Harry forgiveness: Guys, what did you expect from him? He's the Golden Boy (even though I don't like Snpae, I agree on this point of personality) but he hadn't been in jail for ten years when he made his will...**

**I'll try to update soon (within the next week for sure)**


	3. Old man and Prophecies

**Disclaimers:** Regular stuffs: I don't own anything you recognize and everything you don't.**  
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Chapter 3**: Old man and Prophecies

He was cold. He felt tired but sleep run away from him. With a start he woke up. He got up and looked around. He was in a circular room painted in soft grey. Upon closer inspection he noticed it was stones. He felt like a white veil was in front of his eyes. He tried to rub them but it didn't change anything. He turned around noticing two doors at one side and one opposite to them. There was a small table with bits of parchments, inks and quills. He also saw a fire place in activity. He walked close to it but there was no heat coming out of the flames. He noticed an armchair and a small table with tea and scones. He headed toward it. Just as he sat down he glanced in front of him. There was another armchair with an old man sat into it, staring at him with an amused smile.

The old man had shoulder length white hair and a goatee. He kept studying the old man who left him do so without interrupting. He wore a white dress with a leather belt. On the left hanged a long sword, on the right there was a pouch. Next to the old man there was a big walking stick with drawings. He narrowed his eyes trying to defer what it was. Even thought he didn't, he knew one thing: it was familiar.

The old man served them both tea, gave him one cup and asked:

"Do you like my staff?"

"It's a staff? I thought it was a walking stick" he replied.

"Well yes, it's also a walking stick, as much as a wand can be use as a slide rule, I guess. It's not its purpose but can be used for it" chuckled the old man.

"A wand?" he asked.

"Yes, a focus for you magic." Answered the old man; in front of his puzzled look he continued "Don't worry, you'll remember very soon. You've lost your memories. Your spirit is healing quite fast but it still takes time. Everything comes in time to those who know to wait. I should know about that."

'What do you mean?" he replied, drinking a bit a tea. It was hot, it was good. He felt it had been years since his last cup.

"I've waited for you a long time my boy." The old man merely answered.

"I knew someone who called me my boy…" he started but trailed off as he couldn't remember who it was "You've been waiting here? For me?"

"Yes, my boy."

"But why?" he asked bewildered, there was nothing in this room, how come the man could have waited more than a couple of days?

"Because of whom you are my boy. You are special."

"You must make a mistake, I'm just me, I'm not special." He answered.

"If you say so my boy. If you so say so."

"How long did you wait?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know, I stopped counting after seven hundred seventy-seven years." Replied the old man with a smile playing on his lips.

"What? But you should be dead!"

"Oh, but I am my boy."

"Then I'm alone talking with a ghost." He translated.

"Oh no my boy. I am here so are you and I'm not a ghost, I'm still in between. I didn't move on but I didn't refuse either. You'll understand soon."

"What am I supposed to understand old man?"

"That we are both equals."

"You mean like I'm dead to? Trap between a ghost life or moving on?"

"Yes and no"

"Ok, that's it" he said, dropping his cup and getting up "Who are you? Where are we? What am I doing here?"

"Slowly my boy, slowly. One at a time, one at a time. You want to know who I am?"

He nodded.

"You want to know my name or what I am for you?" he asked stroking his beard.

"Both?"

"Bad answer my boy, how do you expect me to give you my name when you don't even remember your own?"

"I remember my name!"

"Do you now? And what it is your name my boy?"

"…"

"As I said, you don't even remember your own name. But fear not, you will" the old man gently explained.

"Okay. I don't know who I am. So who are you..." He asked. In front of the old man's gaze he quickly added "…to me?"

"I'm the seed of your tree."

"Come again?" he asked.

"Do you know if you made researches about your family tree during your life my boy?"

"I know I didn't."

"Well, I'm the reason for your family's existence."

"You mean to tell me we are related?" he replied.

"Oh no, my boy. We are not" the old man answered. "I'm merely the one who took the first step that lead to the existence of your family and then to your short but eventful life."

"Ok, I'm lost. I don't understand anything old man."

The old man paused several seconds. He was thinking furiously. He finally spoke.

"Let take a different approach. You know what is a prophecy, right?"

"Yes, I think maybe one was made about me, or was it a friend? I don't know any more… but I know what is a prophecy" he replied, still lost but a least able to participate in the discussion.

"One about you or a friend? Oh no my boy. That's the point. You are the recipient of at least half a dozen of past prophecies that you don't know and I don't even speak about the ones that were made since your conception, and don't even get me started on those to be made in the future. No my boy, you are the Child of Prophecies" continued the old man.

"Which means?" he asked.

"Which means that prophecies were made and remained made. The events never happened. Now, that's the point of a prophecy: it says what is going to happen, sometimes with different possible outcomes and often without being very clear, but it states what will come. What do you think happens when a prophecy isn't fulfilled?" demanded the old man.

"That it didn't happen?" he supplied.

"No! That's just it. What ever comes it will happen. And that is where you entered in the equation." the ancient stopped to let the worlds sink in. "As I said, I'm the seed to your tree, your family tree. I was the first one to make a prophecy which is still waiting for it fulfillment centuries after."

The old man stopped and looked at his interlocutor. The young man seemed to have a headache. He started to worry. Dead people weren't supposed to be hurt.

"Are you alright my boy?"

He looked up when he heard the voice full of concern. "Yes. I… I think I remember. I was a student… at Hogwarts."

"Yes you were my boy" came the gentle reply.

"Someone just died. A teacher I think. No! It was the headmaster! And then I… I died too, kill and betrayed by my best friend. How could that have happened? Nobody did a thing to stop it!"

"True, but be careful, not all the things you know are the truth. You'll have to remember more to understand fully. Let's carry on, shall we?"

He just nodded. This old man had a soothing effect on him.

"So, if a prophecy isn't fulfilled, basically nothing happens; it just waits to be. If two prophecies wait for fulfillment, it starts to be a bother. But went you have seven then there is too much magic around. It might create an explosion and destroy everything."

He stared stupidly at the old man. How come a little ball of glass could destroy anything but itself? That was the five-galleons-question.

"There is also another thing you should know my boy. It is impossible to make a prophecy which will happen after your death."

"But didn't you say that…" he trailed off, everything started to be very confusing to him.

"Wait for the answers my boy; I'm giving them to you. When you have the bad luck to do it, you have to wait: once you're dead you can't move on, you have to wait for the fulfillment of your prophecy. Then, and only then can you move on. That's why I've been waiting for you a long time my boy. Do you understand now?"

"Understand what?"

"What I am to you?" the old man supplied.

"Euh… No… Sorry."

"It's all right. I'll tell you. Five prophecies and five dead seers were waiting for their predictions to occur. It was the middle of the fourteenth century if I remember well. Anyway, when a sixth seer joined us, we understood we had to do something. We used the magic generated by these 'little balls' as you think of them and we created something. Do you have any idea what?"

"I'm afraid to understand" he replied dread filling his heart "You created my family?"

"In short, yes." Said the old man.

He just stared at the ancient. The guy was simply telling him he had just created him, like a sculpture.

"What the fuck? I'm your sciences' project? Your… your pet!" He managed to scream.

"No, no my boy, you are…"

"DON'T YOU DARE CALLING ME MY BOY AGAIN OLD FOOL! SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY AND LEAVE!"

"But that's the point. I'm not leaving, you are."

"What?" He was lost. He was dead, harsh but ok; his family had been created, difficult to deal with but it was done. Now he had to go somewhere?

The old man calmly said "You are the Child of Prophecies. You are made of magic. You are one of the most magical persons to ever walk on this land. Your task is to fulfill these predictions. We waited for seven centuries until all the requirements were met. It's a hard task and it's not really fair, but you'll gain from it."

"You'd better have something good up your sleeve because if you don't, dead or not I'll kill you… again." He said murderously.

"Yes, yes, you always had a problem with temper, especially when people insulted your family."

"Don't go there old man. Don't go there" he warned

"I'm sorry, you're right I shouldn't. Let's talk about the good point of being who you are should we?" the ancient asked and waited for his charge to agree. In front of a little nod he let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Each one of the seers tampered with wild magic when we made our unfulfilled prediction. As a punishment we have to wait for its realization and give a peace offering to the one who will have to do it, that is to say to you."

"What do you mean a peace offering?" he asked clearly intrigued.

"Well first we ensured you'll have money when you'll be back…"

"Back? Back where?"

"Oh, did I forgot to mention it? Your mind and body are healing while you are in this… ahem… let's say 'reality', then you're going back to the land of the livings exactly two seconds after you died."

"And be killed again? No, thank you. Once is enough." He replied sarcasm filling his words.

"No, you'll go anywhere you want. We'll create a new body for you. An identical copy of the one you had, except it will be healed and in perfect physical form."

"Okay, so in short I gain one apparition and a few muscles? Not that a great deal you know." He continued with a frown.

"Could you please listen?" said the old man clearly irritated, things weren't going as planned. "We ensured you'll have good finances and health, but that's the requirements for our 'champion'."

"I don't know if I want to be anyone's champion…" he said in a low voice. He clearly had a sense of déjà-vu.

"Well that's why each of us is going to give you some knowledge it would have taken you a lifetime to learn. You'll choose what you want to know, and we have had a lot of time to learn in seven centuries. It's a peace offering to give you one knowledge but it's a compensation for your 'temporary death' and the few hardships you'll face that we offer six others." The old man finished with a big smile which quickly faded when the young man answered:

"Can I just say no?"

"Well… Hum…"

"I feel I didn't use this right a lot of times in my life…" he just stated in a low voice.

"I'm sorry" answered sincerely the old man. "You're here because one of the prophecies said you'll have explanations and will gain knowledge from them. You can't walk away from it. But the good point is it only specifies your journey to one goal; and if you're lucky it won't take more than six months. What are six months compared to seven lives of knowledge?"

"Easy to say for a man who's a thousand years old" he sulked.

The old man just sat back in his chair. He had won, he knew it. He knew the Child of Prophecies would fulfill his destiny. He just had to wait for said child to accept it and to select the knowledge he wanted. He took his staff and made a motion with it. A fourth door appeared from nowhere and opened. Six persons came in, four women and two men. None of them said anything; they just lined themselves behind the old man's armchair and waited.

And waited. They started to show discomfort; maybe their spokesman had not been very convincing or maybe the Child refused his destiny. That wouldn't dwell very well for them. After all, he could commit suicide once back and they wouldn't have any resort…

He just sat silently, staring at them. He suddenly spoke.

"Did you know a friend and I managed to fight a Troll at eleven? The teachers were more scared of the unconscious thing that we were to battle it." He trailed off "I supposed I should have known at the time. The Golden Trio: the famous Harry Potter, the strategist Ron Weasley and the smart Hermione Granger. We were destined to great things. It finally appears we were just destined to die if I'm any example."

"Do you remember who you are?" asked softly one of the women.

"No. I supposed I'm not Hermione because I'm a guy so it leaves me with being either Ron or Harry. I don't know what I look like, just that Harry needed glasses and that I don't wear any; but still my body is supposed to be healing so I shouldn't need any, if I ever did. I also know I had a problem with my hair, but for the life – or should I say _death_ – of me I can't remember if it was because of its color or hold. I know I played Quidditch at school but Ron was a seeker and Harry was a keeper. Or is it the other way around? Anyway, I still managed to narrow it to two persons." He calmly stated.

"Quite right my boy, quite r-"

"I ALREADY WARNED YOU OLD MAN!" he screamed interrupting the ancient. "Be careful, there won't be a third warning."

He looked to every person in the room. "I would like to know the content of these prophecies if you would be so kind". It wasn't a question and the seers knew it. They had known for ages this time would come and still dreaded it. Sighing the old man spoke first.

..ooOoo..

He just sat there. Stupidly staring at these seven 'spirits' if he had to call them anything. "And you just said six months old man? What the hell…? It's going to take me at least ten years, if not twenty, just to be in par with what you're asking of me!"

"You forget the knowledge" replied one of the two other men.

"Oh… Well… I guess I'll just have to see what you can offer me. I don't suppose I can take it all?" he asked hopefully. In front of the seven faces that met his eyes he knew he wouldn't.

"But how can I know what I'll require when I don't have my past experiences to help me choose?"

"Fear not young one," softly answered of the women "you'll know when you'll need to."

He found himself silenced. He knew he'd do it, even if it was only to see her again and be able to go out with her, but still…

"Should we carry on with the choice young man?" asked the third man. He was dressed in a heavy armor with weapons encircling his waist.

He merely nodded. The seven produced a piece of parchment. He couldn't help but laugh. The seven of them had bowed toward him producing their piece at the same time.

"I'm sure you practiced centuries just to get it right for now." He teased. "Congratulation, great coordination."

He bit back a laugh, plunged himself in his armchair and looked at the 'knowledge' offered to him like if he was picking from a menu. "You know. I would have loved to have that when I started Hogwarts, I would have had better grades."

"Knowledge is usually the reward of hard work" mysteriously replied the old man.

"What ever…" and he started his shopping as for him it was exactly than.

..ooOoo..

"What's the difference between 'magic focus' and 'wand making'?" he asked.

"Magic focus deals with staves, weapons, jewelry and such. Wand making has to do with obtaining the best match for the owner."

"But if you can sense the power pulling you to a component, can't you make a good match without wand making knowledge?" he asked again.

"Not everybody can feel such pulls"

..ooOoo..

"What the difference between 'Battle Occlumency' and 'Occlumency'?" he asked.

"Battle Occlumency hides your thoughts from the legilimens and helps you mislead them in thinking you're going to use another curse or hex. Occlumency shields your mind and, at the mastery level you'd acquire, helps you create perfect fake memories; it would even enable you to fool Veritaserum but you need concentration for that, you don't have it in a duel. In battle you can only protect and hide not create fake thoughts."

..ooOoo..

"What is the point of spell crafting? We already have so much at our disposition." He asked.

"Knowing the integrates parts of a spell enables you to cast it silently and without wand movement."

..ooOoo..

"Hum… Can I ask why Sex Magic is in this list?" he asked, pink tainting his cheeks.

"Well, I figured as you didn't have any experience in the field, you might want to have… Never mind"

..ooOoo..

"Battle knowledge? What does it entails?" He wondered. As usual, a voice answered the question as if it had been spoken aloud.

"You'll gain experience from hundreds of duels and battles, with explanations of what went right and wrong, why and how to correct if that's your desire."

..ooOoo..

"Potions and Herbiology, a single subject? Neville would have a heart attack…"

"It is required to know what plants you use in potion making."

"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

..ooOoo..

Finally, after what seamed like hours, or maybe days, to him, his choice was set.

"Old man?"

"Yes young insolent?"

"How do we proceed? I have made my choices…"He inquired.

"We'll give you an advanced version of a pensive. Once you'll touch the memories we'll have poured in it you'll gain the knowledge." The ancient explained. With a flick of his staff he produced a big stone basin, with intricate runes on it, he asked "What did you choose?"

"For starter, Legimency and Occlumency. Not the battle one, just the regular."

One of the women advanced and emptied a small vial with a silver substance in the basin. She stepped out of the group with a smile direct to the 'old man'.

"Mphh. What else?"

"Potions and Herbiology. I think I sucked at it. By the way does it include Dark ones?"

"Why? You want to make some?" replied the second man with a knowing smile.

"Just curious…" he replied

The man advanced with two vials. "One contains every plant and potion including Dark ones, the other only the 'nice' ones. Which one you'll have will depend of your other choices." He posed them in front of the pensive and moved to the side.

He nodded. That probably made sense but he didn't understand it.

"Right. Then I selected 'Sword' but I'm not sure I know what it includes…"

The man with the armor advanced holding his vial.

"It deals with crafting your own sword, but you'll need practice, even knowing how to do it right doesn't mean you'll manage it at your first try. It also includes taking care of your weapon, mending it, all the techniques of sword fencing and most importantly my own creation based on centuries of observations and studies: the dance of the wand." The man explained, finishing with a very proud and happy face that you hardly see anywhere but on the face of a three-years-old.

"The dance of the wand?"

"Yes, I have studied the movements and spells used in hundreds of fights and battles. I managed to create a dance were you have 68 less chances to be hit and 126 more to hit your opponent. In short, if you know it well and practiced it so much it became instinctive, you can kill, maim or just capture your enemies in the blink of an eye. Sweet no? So do you want it or not?"

He stared stupidly. "If I want it? Are you crazy? Of course I want it!"

With a smug expression the man emptied his vial in the pensive and joined the two others.

"Right… After this interlude" the old man paused and gave the armored one a pointed look "What's your next choice?"

"I didn't really know but I figured that Battle knowledge could be nice, especially with everything you gave me to do…" he stopped with a reproachful expression that would have scared more than one. Unfortunately for him, when you are several centuries old, it just doesn't work.

A woman stepped. She was holding a decanter. She emptied it in the basin and stepped to the side with the three other seers.

"Woa… That's a lot. I guess it was either a good choice or the most boring I could ever have made. Next I choose runes magic."

Another woman stepped holding a couple of vials, she emptied them and followed the others. There was still a woman and the old man.

"I took Magic focus."

The old man smiled and poured three vials in the basin. He said "You're lucky. You'll be able to do some mixes."

In front of his puzzled expression he just said "Hey kiddo, I'm a druid, I'm not supposed to be understood by everyone. Just know I don't lie. You'll understand. By the way you got this vial." The 'druid' emptied one of the two potion vials "You'll understand later why but we know we can safely transmit you the knowledge of the darkest and foulest potions of the world." The old man finished with a smile.

The last woman was looking at him. He grinned and said "I chose Animagi."

In front of her uncomfortable face he asked "What?"

"Well you don't have any animagus form dear. What about I give you Wards and shields?"

"But I want to know how to become an animagus. Even if I can't be one, I might be able to explain it to others…"

"The thing is it's not knowledge as in Potions, it's an ability; and you don't have it…" she explained. "I'm sorry but you can't have it. What about Ancient Laws? It's very interesting you know…"

"Are you having fun with me? Ancient Laws? What do you want me to do with that? I don't plan in becoming the next Minister of Magic. They are all corrupted people." He fumed. "What are the other choices?"

"You can have Literature, Music…" she started

"We don't have all day Lady. Why don't you skip directly to things I might choose?" he interrupted her.

"No need to be aggressive! Youth nowadays!" she complained. "What about Healing?"

"I have Potions and Herbiology."

"Hum… Apparition?"

"I all ready know how to do it, thank you very much"

"Sliding?"

"What is it?" he asked, his curiosity picked.

"It enables you to Apparate without sound even when there are wards to prevent it. The down side is that it doesn't work for long distances, but it is still useful in a duel" she explained.

He thought about it. Maybe it would be a good thing, still with the Dance of the wand it would hardly be necessary…

Seeing his hesitation the woman spoke. She knew she had to make him accept something from her or she'll be stuck in this reality while the others moved on.

"What about I give you 'Sliding' and 'Wards', they're linked anyway."

He looked at her, a bit amused but careful to hide it. Maybe she'll give him something else if he didn't agree directly.

"And 'Sex Magic' as a bonus for the deception about Animagi" she quickly added in front of his silent refusal.

"Deal."

She let loose her breath. He had agreed! She was going to die for good this time… She advanced to the pensive and emptied four vials.

"Come young man" invited him the pain in the ass, namely the old man or seer or druid or whatever he was.

He slowly made his way to the table. "By the way can I choose to be send a day after my death, just to be sure?"

The last woman quickly agreed. He bit a smile, she was desperate to get rid of him.

"And a cloak would be nice too…" he pushed.

"Get your hand in the pensive!" said the old man taking his arm and directing it to the table.

"You're a pain in the ass" he murmured before touching the silvery substance.

The last thing he heard was "Likewise my boy, likewise my boy.

..ooOoo..

He was falling.

Pain beyond belief cursed through his head. His brain was going to fry, he just knew it.

He opened his eyes. Everything was white, there was no form, nothing to refer to. He couldn't even see his own body.

He started to speak, faster and faster until he couldn't even understand the words. His mouth hardly managed to keep up with his mind.

His hands weren't responding either, they were moving like against an invisible enemy. He couldn't feel his legs.

He was starting to panic when everything stopped.

A light aching in his head was the only memory of the pain he just endured. He was standing in the middle of a street; a wizard street by the look of things. There were few shoppers; they hurried to the shops and left, none of them spared him a glance. It was probably lunch time as the only open restaurant was full.

Noticing he was wearing a cloak (thanks old lady) he closed it around him and started walking. He knew were he was going. They had said he had good finances, he wanted to check it. He remembered who he was and knew he should keep his hood up. After all it wouldn't be good for a dead man to meet someone he knew in the middle of Diagon Alley.

He entered the great white building that represented Wizarding finances: Gringotts. He waited at a counter and spoke a few words to the cashier. He was led through corridors to a big door (in a goblin's point of view). He stepped in the room and sat in a chair without waiting for the authorization. He looked at the goblin in front of him. When the door was closed he lowered his hood saying "How are things going my friend?"

Griphook smiled. "They are going very well for me thank you. You look quite fit for a dead wizard; care to explain your trick Mr. Potter?"

* * *

**Thanks to those who reviewed. Please keep doing it.**

**Ideas welcome. **

**Don't worry and be reassured, Harry won't be Super but will become powerful enough through _WORK_.**


	4. Gringotts

Disclaimer: Regular stuff. You know it be heart by now... ;-)

* * *

Chapter 4: Gringotts

Bill Weasley was fuming. Something was not right he just knew it. Griphook had had a huge promotion after years of cart riding. There was something fishy and he needed to know about it. He had asked questions to every single goblin he knew, none had even bothered to answer! And to make the matter worst his boss had summoned him. Apparently those little bastards had talked and he had received a warning for tentative of bank confidentiality's breach! A warning! Him! All he had done was to look for answers from his colleagues. He had tried to get into Griphook's office and had succeeded… for oh ten seconds. He just had time to see a tall wizard pulling up his hood before four guards had hit his legs, bringing him on his back on the floor. Their swords were ready to cut his head off when the unknown person murmured a few words to the banker. On Griphook's order they released him and told him he was suspended without a pay for two weeks for a second tentative of bank confidentiality's breach. Two weeks! Without a pay! Goddam it! He needed the money! Linda was starting Hogwarts this year and he needed his ointment of Wolfsbane, he couldn't afford to loose his job. Yes, this inheritance from Harry was subsequent and it represented years of salary but there was this weight in his stomach telling him that using money he didn't deserve was wrong. Still furious he Apparated to the Burrow. His mother cooking was soothing and much better than his wife's; maybe it would calm his nerves.

..ooOoo..

Harry was reading the _Daily Prophet_. He didn't say anything about the date nor did react to the article about his death. The Wizarding world's opinion had changed: he was once more their hero, what a laugh... He was used to the various moods swings of the public but didn't care anymore. He couldn't believe he had stayed in Azkaban for ten years. Ten long years. It had clearly changed him. His feelings were distant, even his senses seemed dull after the vivid agony he experienced with the dementor device. The paper seemed weightless in his hands. He wouldn't have believed he was alive but for the light headache he was feeling.

He folded the newspaper and asked if his will had been read and how it went.

Griphook was finishing his story about Ginny's and Dean's reactions to his letter when he heard a commotion outside of the office. He quickly pulled up his hood. The doors open in a bang to reveal a red faced red hair: Bill Weasley. The man hardly took a step in the room before four armored goblins jumped on him. In a matter of milliseconds one of them was ready to decapitate him. He looked at Griphook for the authorization…

Harry bent on the desk and murmured

"I guess he knows there is more than just my death in your promotion. Could you just let him go?"

Griphook stared at him like if he was crazy. "With a harsh sanction I mean" Harry quickly added. The goblin grinned and gave a few hand signals. The guards sheathed their swords, disarmed Bill and took him out of the room. Once the door closed, Harry let loose a breath, it had been a closed call between revealing his identity and Bill's death.

"So Griphook, how are my finances?" Harry asked once he was back in his seat his hood down once again.

"Well, as you required yourself ten years ago, two wills were issued" the goblin paused. Upon seeing Harry nod he continued "The second one as been activated yesterday. Therefore, your Trust Vault, as the one of the late Sirius Black, was emptied and their content shared between the various beneficiaries. The same goes for the deeds of a property in London, one in Godric Hollow, a House-Elf and the ownership of the Ollivanders shop"

"How come I owned his shop? I mean the guy's family is supposed to be in the trade for more than a millennium…" Harry asked clearly surprised.

"Precisely Mr. Potter. It appears that by the time Mr. Ollivanders tried to buy the shop itself the family had been in the business for so long that your ancestors knew it was a better investment to keep the rent than sell."

Griphook took a file in his drawer and opened it.

"Now Mr. Potter, as per our agreements you are still very rich. I took two thousand galleons and donated them to Lycanthropy Society and parked your 'flying motorcycle' in a parking booth near the Leaky Cauldron, in muggle London I might add. Not a small feat for a goblin but I like challenges."

Griphook took a rather used abacus and made a few computations. Apparently it made sense to the goblin, Harry for his part didn't even understand how to hold a counting frame…

"Right. I did as you asked me and invested in various businesses, recalling all the assets when your decease became official. You had 3,934,562 galleons in your mother's vault. They reproduced and have had lots of little sickles, knuts and galleons… Even with the 2,000 galleons used to cover the retaining of your motorcycle you still have close to forty million galleons."

"What?" Harry nearly screamed. He wasn't a fool, he knew banks' interests where never as close as 10. There was simply no way he could have multiplied his money by ten, even in ten years. "How is that possible?"

"As you know Mr. Potter I make benefits on the gains you make thanks to our placements. Therefore I made sure the investments were good and not just a loan to the bank. You might have been killed by Who-Know-Who, then your first Will would have been activated. In this event I wouldn't have gain anything but now… well I have my interests on your gains for the last ten years… Needless to say we are both extremely wealthy, I made sure of it." Griphook replied with a large grin which went twice around his little head. "Then you have the Black and Potter Family Vaults. As I told you the last time we met they contain books, weapons, money and heirlooms which quantities are unknown to us. The blood recognition wards are still in activity but you'll have to update them of course.

"There is also your father's vault. We don't know what's in it but once again you'll have to key yourself into the wards. Finally there are the estates. There is a manor in London, a cottage in Hogsmead, a few shops in Knockturn Alley and a small castle in Scotland.

"The shops are rented. One is a bookstore, rather dark I might add. Another is a jewelry, it's the closest to Diagon Alley; as a matter of fact if the door had been two feet on the left it would be in Diagon Alley. The third shop we had troubles finding what it was as all they have isn't very recommended if you get my drift… It appears it's an Apothecary and a menagerie; of course it only sells very illegal and highly expensive products. The final shop deals with battle gears. It's probably the only one in the entire Alley that has a good reputation: Aurors get their uniforms there.

"The manor has been locked down. Nobody can enter as the house is 'suspended' in stasis under goblin magic. That is to say it doesn't exist until you open it again; same thing for the castle, rather a house with a tower if I may say. The cottage in Hogsmead is rented. As I didn't know what you wanted to do I lowered the lease to a year instead of ten. If that's your desire you'll be able to get it back in two months."

Griphook closed his file and Harry and him looked at each other. "There is still a little formality…" the goblin advanced timidly.

"Yes? What is it Griphook?" Harry enquired.

"Well, your body will be buried tomorrow…" The banker started but was cut by Harry's comment.

"I seriously doubt it…"

"Be that as it may, the Ministry will contest your identity unless we establish it without a doubt." Griphook said slowly.

"And how do you propose we do this? Of course, without me revealing to these morons I'm still alive, not thanks to them…" Harry asked.

"Well during your imprisonment the Ministry developed a magical item named a 'Blood Pin'. Its use is quite simple, you pick your finger with it and we ask questions that only require 'Yes' or 'No' answers. It enables to know if people are wanted or Death Eaters. It even works with people under Polyjuice and even those subjected to a memory charm. It has become quite the favorite with shop tenders: they just ask if you have enough money to purchase anything, it avoids a lot of trouble afterward… We, at Gringotts, are the only ones able to use its extra feature; it will give us your family tree for as far as you'll want. The Ministry would of course accept its results as they developed the 'Blood Pin' themselves." Griphook explained.

"I guess I don't have a choice. Pick away my friend." Harry simply answered.

The goblin smiled and got up. He went to retrieve a small golden casket and opened it in front of Harry. Inside, on a red velvet lining, there were a dozen of small cylinders one inch long. They had various colors but all of them were delicately carved and decorated. They were obviously designed to look like a fashion item despite their sinister role.

"Pick one Harry."

"Oooh… Now I'm Harry again?" came the playful answer.

"Well during the reading of your financial status I'm your banker. Before and after I'm Griphook" the goblin explained with a wink. "Now, these 'Blood Pins' are for our biggest customers – like you Harry. As it's a rather expensive item we offer one to maintain good relations in these times of war."

Harry nodded. Hesitantly he left his hand travel on top of the box. Finally his eyes rested on a golden and silver cylinder. He picked it up and hold in front of him to look at the carvings. They seemed familiars to him but he couldn't pin point where he had seen them before. The whole item was made of gold and the carvings in silver. Griphook smiled.

"Very good choice Harry, it's a gold one with runes in white gold. I don't know why but our customers look like they are afraid of it… Probably because of the runes." The goblin explained.

"No. They are not dangerous. I don't know why but I _know_ they have their place there and will be useful in the future; my compliments to your blacksmith." Harry responded dreamingly as if hypnotized by the Blood Pin.

Griphook stayed still for a couple minutes to let Harry admire his newest possession.

"Now Harry, unscrew the top" the banker finally said. He waited for Harry to do so, revealing a three-quarter of an inch needle. "Now just pick your finger with it and let a drop of your blood touch the bottom of the point.

"Now all you have to do his sign your name at the top of this piece of parchment. Your family tree will fill itself for four generations on both sides, indicating today's date and the hours. As it's made with blood it's heavily protected. Once the blood is used, nobody can retrieve or use it anymore, furthermore, it can't be forged whatever you try."

Griphook waited patiently as Harry picked his finger and signed. The goblin then looked at the document and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what is your secret for immortality but you are twenty-one hours younger than you should be according to your date and hour of birth." He commented.

Harry just stared blankly. "Twenty-one? It should be twenty-four, how did this… Oooh, I know I used a time turner when I was thirteen. Used it for three hours, makes sense."

"Harry, the problem is that you are younger than you should be. Older wouldn't be a problem but younger…" Griphook tried to explain. He just dropped it when he understood Harry wasn't going to explain how he had managed it. "Doesn't matter. We'll find a Time-Turner to age you of a day or so in order to correct it."

Harry nodded with a silent mile. The goblin made a demand for lunch and they talked while eating for an hour or so.

..ooOoo..

"So Harry, where do you want to go?" enquired Griphook.

"Black or Potter Family Vault please, which ever is the closest. I'm only looking for one thing, I'll check on the content another day" the wizard answered to his small friend.

"Right on!"

Harry sat in the cart and they started moving. Harry was soon lost in his thoughts of his first visit to Gringotts, the beginning of his new life, away from the Dursleys. He smiled fondly when he remembered Hagrid. The half giant wasn't scared of anything nor anybody but the dementors (that he could understand) and Gringotts' carts (that Harry didn't understand). He was taken out of his musing by a sudden stop. The young man looked at the door. The Blacks Crest was carved on it.

"So this is the family vault of the infamous Black family?" Harry asked more to himself than to his companion.

"Well depend which side you're taking. If you're from the Ministry, they obviously are, in the other hand if you believe in pure-blood supremacy then they were loyal servants" Griphook answered grimly.

Harry studied the goblin closely for a minute. These kinds of answers, especially with this tone were rare for a goblin. Then he started to laugh. A big booming laugh, the first one he had in ten years. Managing to stop but still grinning madly he said "You don't care do you?"

In front of Griphook's hesitation he added "It's just bad for business right?"

As expected the goblin smiled and nodded without a word.

"Harry, you need to cut your hand to enter the vault. The security wards will recognize you as the rightful heir and will deactivate. Don't worry, next times it won't be needed, your aura will be enough." Informed Griphook.

"My aura?" enquired Harry as he took the small knife that was proposed to him.

"Yes, your aura. Like tendril of magic going into the air from your body" Griphook explained while Harry cut his finger and let a few drops of his blood fall on the door.

A blue dome appeared around the door, pulsating like a heart. It slowly turned to purple and then to red. In a silent flash the ward deactivated, blinding Harry and Griphook. When they found they could see again, they looked at the door. It was slightly open, but most important the Black Crest was gone. Where it once stood, now was another one. A lion on his anterior paws on the right side, a huge snake coiled on itself with the head in the air on the left; on the middle was a big lighting bolt. The lion's pawns resting on its right while the snake looked like it wanted to see what was going on on the other side.

Harry and Griphook stared at it.

"What the hell…"

"I think it's your own crest Harry." proposed Griphook.

"And how do you explain that the Potters' one doesn't look like it at all?" asked Harry.

"How do you know if the Potter crest is different from it?"

"Gripphook, you made me fill a paper with my blood in order to create my family tree. Of course I've seen its crest…"

"Right… Well… It is an inherited Vault not a transferred one, that it to say it doesn't belong to your family but to you. In order to show it is different than the Potters' line regular possessions, a Crest had been magically created representing you. You see…"

Once he had his answer Harry just cut Griphook out and entered the Vault. He had just experienced the goblin's ability to talk endlessly about something whatever its importance and wasn't really keen to hear the full signification of magic merging of crests and families.

The Vault could only be described by two words: Huge and Full. Everywhere around there were trunks to see.

Harry sighted and opened the first trunk he reached. On the top of it was written **G. L. B.** **_Healer_**. Luck seemed to be with him as when perusing it he found a bottomless bag and a wooden box containing what he was looking for: a wand.

Harry took the wand and didn't feel anything. No magic, no wrongness, nothing. He muttered "_Wingardium Leviosa_" pointing the tip to a trunk. It worked. Badly but it worked nonetheless. He pocked the wand…. or at least tried to. That's at this moment he noticed he was still wearing the clothes he had when he was arrested. In short, they were too small for him, especially the pants and were nothing more than rags.

Looking around Harry found a piece of parchment near the entrance with the word _CONTENT_ written on the top. Apparently a trunk with the personal belongings of all the deceased members of the Black Family was warehoused there. The list was simple: all the trunks were classed according to the professions in alphabetical order and then according to the date of birth. Harry found one single person under the occupation of tailor. He touched the named and immediately a trunk glowed in blue. He opened it and found exactly what he wanted: male clothes. He changed and emptied the rest in his bag.

Feeling he'd rather make the ride worth it, he started looking for different things. He didn't know why he wanted these or how he had came across them. He only knew one thing: his light headache wasn't light anymore and it was easier to support it when he was physically doing something.

In the end he looked at what he had collected. In fact he just discovered what it was as the item's selection's had been a blur to him. He found a small collection on Spell Crafting, from the hardest to the most mundane (like _How to Spell Craft in Ten Lessons_ or _Spell Crafting for Dummies_). He smiled for two reasons: these titles were used in the muggle world, so how come a narrow-minded family like the Blacks had such books? Secondly the Seers or whatever they were/are said it was good for silent casting and Harry wasn't able to do it, so… He also had some metals samples and a bag of seeds. It was labeled as 'Sangbois', a very rare tree that needed blood to grow and was used to create wands. They were said to be a perfect match but due to their reputation (what kind of tree needs blood instead of water?) nobody used them since the last goblins' revolution (something like four centuries earlier). He finally had chosen a few books of curses and counter-curses. He didn't need to check the content to know they weren't the kind usually taught in Hogwarts; after all he was in the Vault of a family well versed in the Dark Arts. Harry shocked his head. He put everything in his bag.

Not wanting to make the goblin wait for too long, Harry took hold of his bag, thanking the gods it was also featherless and exited the Vault. He still paused a minute to look at a very small basin made of stone. It was labeled as a pensieve for only three memories or up to an hour of viewing. Harry pocketed it, just in case and rejoined Griphook in the cart. In his way back a saw two doors inside the vault. _Probably leading to another room full of trucks_ he thought, _I'll check that another day._

"Did you find what you were looking for?" asked the goblin.

"Yes, thank you." Harry answered tiredly. "Tell me something, when was the last time you went home Griphook?"

The goblin paused just a second but it was enough to give the information Harry was looking for.

"What do you mean? I live in Gringotts, in the staff's quarters." Griphook quickly said.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that Griphook... But still… Even if I've been in Azkaban for more than a decade I'm not stupid and I know you need women to have children. Therefore I know you don't come from here: there are no females in Gringotts' staff." Harry explained.

Griphook looked at Harry and blinked. He seemed to have lost his voice.

"That's what I thought. Why don't we go to see your boss? I'm sure he won't refuse to give you some vacations." Harry said with a mysterious smile…

Five minutes later Harry was seated in an opulent office with weapons lining the walls, facing a very stern and old goblin. At least old is what Harry thought according to the wrinkles on his interlocutor's face. Chief Ragnok spoke after a minute he had dedicated to study the wizard.

"Good afternoon, Mister Potter. I must say I'm a bit surprised to meet you today especially as your death was all over the news this morning."

"Is that so?" Harry merely answered with a small smile.

"Oh yes, it is so. The Dark Lord has even celebrated the event and killed dozens of black-haired-wizards with green eyes who were in your age category." Ragnok paused to see if this piece of information had any effect. Seeing none he continued. "But I don't thing you came here to discuss the news, so what can I do for you?"

Harry staid silent for a minute, he had a killer headache and wasn't in the mood for small talk. He finally spoke "I would like to have a place to stay for the next couple of month."

"Correct me if I'm wrong Mr. Potter but I think you still have quite a few houses after this little trick you pulled with Griphook. I failed to see what I could do that would be different after all." Ragnok calmly stated. In fact he was dying to know what was going to happen when the Wizarding community learned their 'savior' was alive, and well by the look of things. Therefore he didn't feel too much like helping the young wizard.

"You see Chief Ragnok, I've been _away_ for ten years and didn't have the possibility to see the few friends I still have. Thus I asked Griphook if he would like to go in vacation with me. And he agreed." Harry paused and gave a side look to the goblin. If Griphook was surprised to learn what he had agreed to he didn't show it.

"He seemed quite content at this idea and told me he didn't have any day off for a dozen years. I figured you wouldn't refuse him a couple months, would you?" he pursued.

"Of course no. As shown by your own case Griphook is an asset to Gringotts. If he wants two months of holidays he can take them after all. But I still fail to see the correlation with you Mr. Potter."

"I'm coming there" said Harry. His head was killing him. He pinched his nose and continued. "I figured that if Griphook didn't have any day off for so long he didn't go back home either. Therefore I think it would be great if he could do so."

"But Mr. Potter every goblin lives in the various Staff's quarters of all the Gringotts in the world. Still, if Griphook wants to go back where he was born, I have no problem with it. It's just that if you want to go _home_ with him, you'll stay in Gringotts" Ragnok interrupted. Apparently he didn't like the direction this discussion was taking.

"Yes, yes of course. But you made one mistake Chief Ragnok." Harry smiled: the goblin was cornered.

"I don't understand."

"Well, there is no women Chief, and they are necessary to have kids; and there aren't any children either. So… Do you still persist in the 'all goblins live in Gringotts' version?" Harry calmly answered.

Ragnok didn't say anything as his eyes narrowed.

Harry paused again. He was ready to continue when Griphook, who appeared to have understood, spoke.

"As I had all ready agreed to go with Mr. Potter and as he had already figured we had lands somewhere else, he resolved in asking you the permission to let me go there and as I'd be with him…" Griphook trailed off.

Harry smiled. His goblin friend would have made a perfect Slytherin. He knew lands existed therefore the management couldn't hide and say they didn't want him to learn about it and the Chief had already agreed to let Griphook go back home and in vacation with him…

Ragnok didn't say anything as he sunk in his armchair. He finally smiled. "I guess I'm cornered here."

Griphook and Harry grinned.

"If you'd be kind enough to use a blood pin Mr. Potter, Griphook and you could be leaving before the end of the day." Ragnok concluded. He had no other way, so he wanted to at least look like he still controlled the situation.

"Do you know about this item, the 'Blood Pin' Mr. Potter? It has been developed during your imprisonment after all." Ragnok kindly explained.

Griphook growled "Unjust imprisonment…"

Ragnok and Harry smiled as they joined their voice to Griphook's and said "… I might add!"

Harry took his pin and used it to prick his finger, bringing a drop of blood. Once the needle had changed from grayish to red, Ragnok asked Harry six questions.

"Is your name Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"Did someone tell you of the existence of goblin's territories?"

"No."

"Do you plan in telling anyone about it?"

"No."

""Do you plan in interfering in any way with goblins if you were to stay there?"

"No."

"Do you plan in interacting with the goblins if you were to stay there?"

"Yes."

"Is your judgment better than a goblin with the same knowledge?"

"No."

Each answer was followed by a small flash of green light at the bottom of the pin. Satisfied, Ragnok cleaned the pin and gave it back to Harry.

"Well Mr. Potter, you are the first human to ever have the authorization to go in goblin territory. Of course, you are also the first human to ever mention to us the knowledge of such territories, but that wouldn't have necessarily meant you would have been given access." Said Ragnok with a grin (It was a scary picture to Harry if truth be told…)

"Griphook you are free to go whenever you want. I'd suggest the slow travel, after all its Mr. Potter's first visit."

Harry and Griphook got up and shake hands with Ragnok.

"If I were you Chief I'd work on this 'after all' thing of your" Harry said with a smile and a wink.

"I do agree with you Mr. Potter. I shall do that if you work on Griphook's 'I might add'" The banker answered playfully. Harry rolled his eyes, there was no way he could stop Griphook to talk that way… after all.

Harry and his friend (because that was what he was from the wizard's point of view) went back to the Hall, using the cart. There Harry waited patiently while Griphook went to his quarters to pack. He decided to have a little stroll in Diagon Alley, just to have a bit a fresh air before the journey. It happened to be at the same time a very good and wrong idea.

..ooOoo..

Hermione Granger was enjoying a butterbeer at The Leaky Cauldron. She was waiting for her long friend Ginny Weasley soon to be Mrs. Thomas.

Said woman was furious. Her fiancé, Dean Thomas, had had the guts to reproach her with his job! She knew he had wanted to try Curse Breaking as a career like her brother, but instead he had joined the Auror training when she did. She had never asked why; she didn't care she believed he had changed his views and decided to do his part in the war. It now appeared he had only done it because she had said the man she'll date would probably be an Auror. Oh, she dated him alright! And agreed to marry him, even though he had never worked for the ministry after graduation as a Law Enforcer; but now he blamed her, saying he had lost his dream for another (herself!) which wasn't worth it!

Ginny was seriously considering dumping him when she crashed in a man wearing a heavy dark cloak. She apologized in a hurry and kept going on. She opened the archway to enter the pub and step through it. The wall started reforming itself when she heard screams. She immediately tried to go back but a ward prevented it. She tried to Apparate with the same result. Defeated she run to meet her friend hoping Hermione would have a back-up plan to get into the Alley.

..ooOoo..

Harry was quietly walking in the alley. More than fifteen years after his first visit the place hadn't lost anything of its charm. He was enjoying the sight; even though people were hurrying the shops were still displaying their contents for everyone to see. And he was exactly doing that. He passed in front of _Owl Emporium_, wondering what had happened to Hedwig his faithful owl…

Harry was watching the books on display at _Flourish And Blotts_ when someone bumped into him. He looked down and found himself lost into big brown eyes surrounded by a sea of red hair. _Ginny_. He stood there, not knowing what to do or how to act. He didn't know what he felt… Heck, he didn't know if he felt anything!

She excused herself, not recognizing him with his hood up and kept walking toward the exit.

Harry shook himself off and hurried back to Gringotts. He was just at the entrance when screams hit his hear. Spinning around he saw four cloaked figures with white masks. _Probably an initiation_ he figured after twenty seconds. Two of the Death Eaters had small frames. The taller and bulkier couple had their wands out but didn't do anything as the others started to shoot spells.

Harry watched the scene impassively for a few seconds wondering he if should do anything. He finally reached the conclusion that he didn't care. He had spent the majority of his magic life in jail; he wasn't going to dye – again – for scared goats unable to defend themselves. Without a glance to the tortured and dying people he stepped in the bank.

Harry saw Griphook waiting for him in the lobby, two big bags at his feet.

"So, ready to go my friend?" he inquired.

"What is going on outside?" the goblin responded.

"Oh just a Death Eater initiation: two recruits and two veterans having a bit of fun. Why?"

Griphook stared at the wizard. The man considered the epitome of chivalry and bravery was calmly informing him of people dying, without a care in the world?

"Oh… And what did you do?"

Harry blinked. Again. "What da ya mean 'what did I do'? I left of course!"

Griphook inclined his head in a silent acknowledgement. "And you do not have a problem with it?"

"No." he responded. In front of the bewildered face of his friend he wondered aloud "I should?"

Griphook slowly shock his head. "Follow me Harry."

The pair quickly reached an office and sat down. The goblin stayed silent for a couple minutes as if organizing his thoughts. Finally he put his hand in his pockets and spoke.

"Harry, do you have any idea what your name and actions represent to the world?"

"Yeh, the stupid White Knight ready to fight and die for justice" said person mumbled.

"Exactly. Who do think is Harry Potter to me?"

"I… I don't know… What don't you tell me?" Harry responded bit aggressively.

"The clever person who rise above prejudices and do what he can to share his ideas to the world." Griphook hold his hand to stop the retort he was sure was coming. "Look at you. Fifteen years ago you had fought a giant snake to save a girl you hardly knew and freed a House-Elf who nearly got you killed because you felt it was wrong not to act. You saved a convicted man to the Dementor Kiss…"

"You know about that!" Harry exclaimed.

"Goblins know a lot of things, Harry. The Ministry considers us as unworthy beings just good enough to push and weight gold, it doesn't mean we are. They don't ask question we don't give them answers. What I'm trying to say here is that you had a reputation for as long as you can remember among wizard kind; but you made yourself another reputation with your deeds. A reputation you should be proud of. They can like you or hate you, but every goblin, centaur, House-Elf and more, know you. Heck, even the unicorns know you went after one of them injured!"

"So?" Harry interrupted.

"So? Harry if it was today, would you try to save a unicorn hurt by a Death Eater if you could?"

"Yes!"

"Would you punish this or these men for their action?"

"Yes."

"Do you think unicorns have more the right to live than humans?"

"No."

"So, why did you run away from the Alley?"

"I didn't run away!" Harry exclaimed.

"Still, you didn't help, did you?"

"No…"

"Why?"

"…"

"They're your kind Harry. Why didn't you help them?" the goblin asked softly.

"I… It's just… I don't know…" Harry said his shoulders collapsing.

Griphook smiled. With one hand he extracted a small pendant from his pocket, with the other he _Actio-ed_ a long package. Harry opened it to reveal a gladius, a dagger and a throwing knife with sheaths hanging to a leather belt.

Griphook hold his hand with the piece of jewelry. "Do you know what this is Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"What is it?"

"A time-turner…"

"The screams started forty minutes ago, it gives you ample time. You should go to the Apparition Point. It will be easier. People won't be able to see you disappear or appear there. I'll leave in twenty minutes, you will always be my friend Harry, but I hope I'll still be proud to say in front of my colleagues. Alright Harry?"

Harry nodded weakly. He got up, strapped the belt to his waist and made his way to the door. Griphook called him. "Hey Harry?" He turned around as he friend tossed him a galleon. "Have a drink in the mean time. It's on me."

Harry left the office with a lot in his mind. He went to the Apparition Point, his hurting head full of thoughts and questions.

_Why do I have to help them? For God sake! I'm supposed to be dead! What's next? Necromancy to force me fight Voldemort? For all I care the fucker can rot in hell or rule Earth. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! Why did Griphook had to play the guilt card to make me act? Should I tell him to bugger off?_

When Harry stepped outside, he saw the 'battle' was over. Aurors were trying to secure the street but weren't enough to be efficient. He spotted Ginny red mane in the group. _So she an Auror now… Interesting._

He saw himself in the corner of his eyes waving at himself. _So, I used it then._

Still refusing to have to act for these _cowards_, but unsure of what he was going to do, Harry gave one turn to the small hourglass.

* * *

_**I'm sorry I waited so much to upload. I know what is going to happen in the story, but I have troubles writing in between... It wouldn't make sense to have Harry die and then back to the living whitout any explanation, would it?**_

_**Anyway. I hope you like the chapter. I rushed a bit the end so forgive me if it's not up to your expectations, I'm trying to find wy place alongthe thin line between good chapters uploaded once a month a crap or very short chapter twice a week...**_

_**Please Reviews and give me comments. It's the only way for me to actually improve the story and fix these little things you see that I didn't explain or don't make much sense...**_


	5. Visions and beasts

Disclaimer: As you all know (or at least figured out) I'm not JKR. Therefor, I'm not making any money with this and everything you recognize is hers. The rest is mine.

* * *

Chapter 5: Visions and beasts

In a blur Harry was back to the Apparition Point. Everything was as neat and organized as it was when he had been visiting an hour ago (or was it in twenty minutes?). _Time Turners aren't the best way to retain your sanity,_ Harry chuckled.

He stepped into the Alley and went to the only restaurant. He figured he'd ponder on his next move while having a drink. Making sure his hood was still up, he found a sit on the terrace, facing the future Apparation site of the Death Eaters. He still didn't know if they were the future actors of a show he'll be watching, his friends in a little sado-masochistic game or his enemies in a fight to death (lets face it, he had a dagger, a throwing knife and a gladius, he wasn't going to fight to stun).

In a couple of 'Pops' a House-Elf had brought him a butterbeer and a FireWiskey. He figured he'd might as well enjoy some strong drinks, he was either going to have fun or die so…

Lazily Harry let his eyes travel among the faces of the passers-by. Each and every one of them was hurrying, they all looked scared shitless. It is then that it occurred to Harry: he didn't care for these people. They didn't care for him he wasn't going to give a damn about them either. Satisfied with his final decision, Harry settled himself in his sit and savored the strong taste of Malt. He discovered the way to drink alcohol wasn't very different than potions. First you hold the liquid in your mouth to identify the taste (and the effect in the potions' case) and then swallow it in one gulp.

Harry was calmly watching the scene, a smirk on his face with the thought that everyone would be slaughtered by the Death Eaters wanabes when he spotted his own frame strolling in the street. Excitation began to build up. He felt his heart bit increase, his blood heat up in anticipation. He had drinks and a clear view, the show was going to be so good… He felt like an ancient Roman readying for a gladiator fight.

He waited… And waited. The minutes went by so slowly it felt like eternity to him but, as surely as midnight strokes twelve, four figures Apparated in the street and started firing curses. Taking another sip Harry eyed one Junior Death Eater using the Cruciatus Curse on a mid-thirties man while the other was throwing Cutting Hexes all-around. In the corner of his vision he saw himself leaving the area with no hurry. A smile was already starting to appear on his face. He loved the sound these sheep made when scared.

Then it happened. The only thing that could go wrong did go wrong. This simple detail, that can change a man's ideal, happened. An experimented Death Eater kicked a passer-by who came staggering toward Harry's table and spilled his butterbeer.

Time seemed to slow for Harry. He just stared as the table vibrated under the shock. His eyes widened when the bottle fell. He tried desperately to grab it but it was already clashing on the stone floor… Harry snapped. In a single movement he got up, put the throwing knife under his right sleeve and withdrew his wand. He calmly made his way in front of the Death Eaters who were unaware of the dragon they had just woke up.

Harry stopped in front of the group and waited for them to notice him. It didn't take long. A Death Eater locked eyes with him, then another one. In a matter of seconds the five watched each other. The street was quiet. They could have heard a pin drop. One of the 'future' Death Eater laughed.

"So… Now Mudbloods come to the slaughter on their own? How convenient" the recruit mocked.

"Not really" replied Harry while transferring his wand for one hand to the other. "I'm not a Mudblood and I don't want to fight you."

To prove his point he put his wand in his left pocket. Doing so he felt the wetness caused by the spilled drink; his ire increased tenfold.

"One of YOU spilled my drink and ruined my coat!" he roared. "Who is going to pay for it?"

"I seriously doubt it's going to be one of us" one of the Death Eaters replied amused.

"Wrong answer."

Harry launched his right arm and… everything went strange…

The throwing knife did exit his sleeve and sunk into one of the recruits' shoulder but everything else was… it was… it was just not right. Instead of the four Death Eaters there were four men with a blood-red cloak; they weren't in Diagon Alley anymore but in a green forest. For a split second Harry didn't know what to do, but the three unwounded men did. A yellowish curse passed an inch from his shoulder. _Bone Melting Hex_ Harry though. He had never seen one but for a strange reason he just _knew_ what it was. He pulled out his wand and shot a silent stunner to the fallen Death Eater/Red robbed man. _How the hell can I do silent spells?_ But the answer to his question never came as he run toward two of his enemies. With his right hand he pull the dagger and in a fluid motion thrust it into the throat of the man on his left as he pointed his wand at the man on his right and bellowed "Crucio". The Death Eater/Red robbed man went trashing and screaming on the ground. A voice screamed "Avdiffindora" In a rapid movement Harry unsheathed his sword and made a slashing motion toward the ground on his back.

Three things happened at the same time. First the Forest and the Red robbed men dissolved themselves to reveal Diagon Alley and Death Eaters. Then Harry felt pain on his torso as a Cutting Hex impacted on him, and finally he felt resistance on the blade of his sword. Looking on the back he understood why. One of the Death Eaters recruits had his wand arm cut at shoulder length and was unconscious due to the shock.

The street was totally silent, like a battle field after the fight. Harry sheathed his sword, Actio-ed the dagger and throwing knife. He pulled them away and started to move toward Gringotts when five figures materialized without a sound on his right. Startled he stared as Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Seamus Finnigan, Terry Boots and a man he didn't know marched toward him.

"Are you the one responsible for this slaughter?" asked Hermione Granger to the wizard in front of her. In fact, she didn't really need any answer from him. The blood falling from his wound and the one spilt on his right hand were enough proof, especially as he was the only one standing. She was surprised when he responded.

"Yes I am. I wouldn't have been bothered if you could prevent it." Harry answered still angry of the loss of his drink.

"Well you obviously killed one of them, maimed another one and used an Unforgivable, _Sir_. Aurors arrest him." Hermione replied in a no-nonsense voice.

"I don't think so. Goodbye Hermione Granger." With that, Harry took his Time Turner and gave it a turn as Seamus Finnigan's hand clasped his forearm.

Once again Harry was in a blur. He reappeared in front of the Apothecary another hour earlier, Seamus Finnigan still holding his arm. He disengaged his arm and withdrew his wand, the Auror did the same. Not in the mood for another duel Harry threw his fist in his former classmate's chin. Seamus felt like a mass. In a couple seconds he was bounded, gagged, stunned (just for sure) and deposited in a corner of the street were Harry set up a Notice-Me-Not ward. Then he calmly Apparated to St. Mungos hoping it hadn't changed since the day he went there during his fifth year.

..ooOoo..

While the Healer worked on his wound Harry reflected on his past days in Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey was always scolding him when he got injured. He found it irritating but now he remembered it was with fondness… The Healers hadn't even inquired his name before scanning him. They just didn't care. It saddened him to know that, but in the other hand he was glad they hadn't asked any question. He could hardly explain he had gotten wounded during a fight that had not yet occurred.

He was also trying to explain what had happened during the brawl. Where did that forest come from? How had he ended there? And who were theses Red robbed men? He was taken out of his thoughts when the Healer declared him in perfect health and shoved him outside. Still perplexed he Apparated back to Diagon Alley. He still had fifty minutes before this extra hour was over and he wanted to check some of his shops.

Back in the shopping street Harry made his way toward Knockturn Alley. The street was as dark as before but things were different. There was much less people strolling there. _Probably too scared to get killed_ Harry mused. Every shop had wards up than could only be passed if you had money and no intention in harming the owner. Still the Alley was as filthy as ever and didn't appeal to Harry. He stopped in front of _Galahad Battle Gear (Ministry approved)_ and went to the security clerk who only asked his vault number and to see his left forearm. Not knowing which vault was his, Harry gave a drop of blood on a Gringotts certified bank draft that shown he had ample money to make purchases in the store. The clerk pointed his wand at Harry's forearm and said "Finite"; when nothing happened he was granted access. A seller came to him. She was around his age but he couldn't place her face. She could have been cute except for the fact she was as strong and wide as Crabbe and Goyle put together.

"Good evening sir. My name is Lona. Can I help you?"

"I don't really know. I was just passing by and as I was injured in fight recently" _very recently_ Harry mentally smirked "I figured a bit of protection wouldn't be a wrong investment."

"Do you have any idea of what you're looking for?" she inquired.

"Not really." The saleswoman's face fell. "But I think that Aurors' protections would be a start."

At these words Lona gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen. Harry smirked and decided to go for the kill. "Money is _not_ a problem" He said, stressing the not.

"Well sir, it really depends of the material you wish to buy…"

"How so?" asked Harry. A vest was a vest right?

"Well, we only do dragon hide. Leather is nice but has no real purpose especially in battles. In the past we did some boots in Basilisk but they are extinct and it needs to be five times older than a dragon so..."

In front of Harry's puzzled look she continued.

"Let me explain. Dragon Hide is very resistant to spells but as it's only the hide and not the whole dragon, it looses lots of power when it's separated from the flesh. The older a dragon the strongest is its hide. In order to have some protection against a simple Spell like the leg-locker you require the Hide of a twenty-years-old-dragon. If it were a Basilisk it would have to be at least a one hundred-years-old-Basilisk to have the same result… Therefore we don't use Basilisk skin anymore. They're shinny and very good looking but don't have any purpose other than that."

"Does the age of the amour have any importance?" Harry asked.

"Not at all sir. An armor made two hundred years ago from a twenty-years-old-dragon will be exactly the same as one made today. An armor made twenty years ago from the hide of a two-hundred-years-old-dragon will be as strong as one made during Merlin's time or yesterday. It all comes to the strength the beast had at its death or when it was slain."

Harry nodded. It made sense. A Basilisk was a fool creature that had no use but in the darkest of the potions (or in the extermination of muggle-born and Half-Bloods as he had witnesses himself). "Do you have wand holsters?" Harry asked, remembering Mad-Eye Moody and his constant 'wand safety tips'.

"Of course sir. We have lots of models though. There are three ages, twenty, thirty and fifty-years-old-dragons. You can have them in red from a Chinese Fireball, dirty blue from a Swedish Short-Snout, dark grey from a Norwegian Ridgeback or black from a Hungarian Horntail. These are the regular ones, then there are spells you can add. There are: Anti-Summoning for the holster, Anti-Summoning for the wand, Self oiling (that's mainly for a second wand you don't use often), Invisibility and Recognition." Lona explained.

"We used to offer Blood-Recognition and In-Body-Insertion. Unfortunately, even though _we_ are still able to do it, the _Ministry_ has declared these practices barbaric, Dark and therefore illegal." She finished with a wink.

She bent toward Harry and, with an air of conspiracy, murmured next to his ear, through the hood. "I've been told the manager can even customize the holster to the wand."

Harry stared at her. She hadn't even seen his face and told him how to buy illegal upgrades for a wand holster he hadn't even purchased? Jeez! He didn't even have a proper wand! Finding back his voice he inquired "Do you make customized orders?"

"Sure, that is as long as you have the money, and the proper clearance... but in the end it really goes back to how much money you have if you get the meaning… We do everything you want us to do. You can even provide the Hide yourself if you want, but let me tell you we have great prices on them already…"

"Whatever," Harry answered. He had more information than he required and now wanted nothing more than for her to shut up. "I'll take a red holster, thirty years old, no spells attached, and that's gonna be all."

"Here you are sir." Lona answered as she retrieved the item bellow a counter. She was a bit put out with such a poor sale, especially after his 'money is not a problem'. Seeing her face Harry fell a bit bad for the girl. _Probably paid on commissions_ he thought.

"I might come back in several months for customized items. If I do, I'll be sure to ask for Lona." Harry said in a suave voice (or at least what he figured would be a suave voice). It seemed to work as her cheeks tinted in pink and she thanked him.

Five minutes later, Harry was out of the shop. He had once again to give a bit of blood to tie his payment to his vault(s). He silently praised whichever blacksmith which had thought to include a Healing Charm in his Blood Pin. He had used so many time in just an hour… _Well three hours, but nobody is supposed to know that_ he figured.

Harry was exiting the dark Alley when he heard a squeal. He watched around but nobody seemed to be affected, or to have heard anything for the matter. He started walking when he heard it again. Puzzled Harry stopped and waited. Five seconds later another squeal reached his hears. Or at least it would have if Harry hadn't been concentrated… In fact the noise was originating from his head.

Turning around Harry noticed the sound seemed to be stronger from one direction. Like in a trance, even though all his instincts told him he shouldn't, he started walking toward a small, badly light (even in daylight) and dirty lane. The squeals increased in intensity and frequency until he faced an ugly store named _Ogler Menagerie._ The noise stopped at once when Harry opened the door. He felt stuck to the ground as the wards checked him. Once released, he stepped in the shop.

There were casings, aquariums and terrariums everywhere. The shop was very hot and in total darkness. However, when Harry took one step in it, torches flared to life and a voice boomed "I'm coming, I'm coming".

Harry stood half curious half disgusted. There were hundreds of snakes, spiders, scorpions, and the like in there. What could have possibly 'called' him in here? Even though he was a parselmouth Harry disliked snakes, probably due to the last contacts he had with them: ones Basilisk and Naggini, Voldemort's own pets…

An old bald man with a beard touching the ground and so many wrinkles you couldn't see his mouth, appeared in front of Harry.

"Do you find anything to your liking sir?" he inquired in a fake voice.

"No." Harry answered before he could even think.

The man raised his eyebrows (or at least the place that should be the eyebrows). "Then, pray tell me, what are you looking for?"

Harry didn't answer but surveyed the older seller. Said man had trouble keeping his eyes on the tall man in front of him. The wizard had a cloak and his face was masked but he smelled danger. He could see a red wand holster on the left forearm, a knife and sword on the wait. Mumbling the old man said "Maybe… Maybe you'd… Maybe you'd be more interested in my… _special_ beasts?"

Seizing the opportunity, Harry merely sneered and answered "Obviously I'm not here for your good look."

Whining the old man indicated to follow him as he went to the back of the shop, behind a curtain. Wary of such a man Harry slid his dagger in his left sleeve, blocking it under the holster's straps and followed the vendor. He found himself at the top of stairs.

"Before we go down sir, I'd need a proof you're here to look and eventually buy an animal" the seller said in very submissive voice.

Harry sighed and took out his Blood Pin. Seeing the beauty of the item the shopkeeper made to grab it but Harry was faster. He let it drop in his left hand as in a swift movement he held his dagger and pressed its tip to the old man's throat. "I don't think so" he hissed.

The vendor was so scared he was ready to wet himself. "I… I need to… to verify its… its authenticity." He begged. Harry just said, in a cold voice "Slowly…", the threat opened and evident to both of them.

The man slowly raised his wand at it and said "Identificarem". One of the runes turned purple and blew some smoke which wrote 'Gringotts' Blacksmith: Klag - In circulation for: 0 days 3 hours' and created the bank's seal bellow. The seller nodded and Harry prickled his thumb for what felt the hundredth time that day.

"Are you an Auror?"

"No." Harry answered with a sneer.

"Have you ever worked for any Ministry?"

"No."

"Are you here to eventually buy something?"

"Yes."

The old man was rewarded by for three little flashes of green light.

"Fine then. Follow me sir."

Harry put his dagger back under his holster's straps and went down the stairs. There he met an unexpected site. The huge room he stepped in was brightly light. Dozens of enclosure held animals. Apparently there were Silencing wards as not a sound but Harry's and the vendor's breathing could be heard. They went to the first animal. It was a female that had eight or nine young. The breed was unknown to Harry. The beast seemed to have feathers but no wings, a jaw without fangs but hundreds of needles, four legs and a tail with spikes at the end.

"These are a cross between dragons, owls and spiders. She and the father are the only adults that have survived so far…" The old man explained, mistaking Harry's disgusts for curiosity.

Harry went to the second enclosure when he felt more than heard the 'leading squeal' coming from the end of the room. Disregarding the alligator thingies in the terrarium, Harry went toward this noise he only could hear. He finally stopped in front of something he recognized. A bitch and seven puppies were asleep. An eighth one was staring at Harry.

"Ah. This one is a special project of my late son. The bitch is looking like a Rottweiler, a regular dog. Have you heard of them?" the vendor asked. Upon Harry's nod he seemed relieved. "Then you know how muggles use them. If you want one of them, they are perfect now as they are ten weeks old. I'm not sure what my son did to it but... Wait a second." He picked up a file on the side of the cage. "Right, he used phoenix blood so it should have empathy but it's the fourth and last bearing and it still hasn't worked, so I don't really know… They are also a bit mixed with… Griffins!" the old man gasped.

"Well I figure I now know where my son's money went… Therefore it should be very strong and resistant to the simple spells. Both creatures are among the cleverest to walk or fly Earth, the dog will be extremely clever, mark my word. Maybe they have other abilities but I'm unable to differ them due to the considerable amount of modifications my son made… Ah, yes, there is also a timed aging effect: the puppy grows into a fully grown 'dog' in three months after leaving its mother and they live around twenty-five years before aging. They should die around thirty-five or forty years old, but if you want my advice you should kill it when it reach thirty to thirty-five, after that they are only troubles, too old to do anything…"

"Luckily, nobody asked for your opinion" snapped Harry, his eyes locked with the young puppy's. He bent down and picked it up. The puppy licked his face and Harry felt contentment instead of the squeals he had heard for the past fifteen minutes. Turning to the vendor he inquired in the cold voice he seemed to use every time he spoke to the despicable man in front of him "How much?"

"Two hundred galleons." The vendor answered him timidly.

"How much?" Harry asked again, half way through a growl and a threat.

"One… One hundred fifty galleons."

"Do I look like somebody ready to be _fucked_ by a bloody _swindler_?" Harry asked while getting ready to pull his wand if need be.

"One hundred!" the seller cried. In front of Harry brutal demeanor he added "and I give you the papers for the dog and the notes from the previous users!"

Harry still felt like he was ripped off. After all a galleon was ten pounds, no dog was worth that price.

"Please sir, the breeding cost a great deal of money, furthermore I have to pay twenty galleons to my contact at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to get officials papers and avoid any trouble to you: your animal could be executed if it doesn't have valid papers issued by the Ministry of Magic." The seller nearly screamed. Harry didn't make a sound nor a move.

"Sir I need to eat." The old man whined.

Harry sighed. Everybody was trying to soften him this day. "So? How does that concerns me?"

"Sir, it's my final offer. Either you take it or you leave empty handed" returned the shopkeeper with a bit more of backbone.

"Very well." Harry said and went to the stairs.

"Hum… Sir?" the vendor whined again.

"What?" snapped Harry as he turned around. He was faced by a wand pointed at his head.

"I'm sorry, but I don't sell to Death Eaters. Especially this animal as my son was killed during a play-time of You-Know-Who's minions. If you were kind enough to put the dog on the ground and take out your wand holster, I'd like to check your left forearm." The vendor said. His demeanor wasn't the one of a scared shit anymore but of a man holding true to his principles, and that pleased Harry.

Finding it hard to glare at a man who had unknowingly earned his respect, Harry gently putted the dog on the floor and slowly took out his holster. Still he held his dagger ready to strike if need be. The atmosphere was tense as the old man cast expertly various revealing charms, some of them in foreign languages Harry didn't recognize (and that's saying something as he had already heard Latin, Asian and Cyrillic ones).

"Well, everything seems to be in order" the vendor said after fifteen minutes of casting; he pulled his wand back in his robes as Harry refastened his holster and took the puppy back in his arms.

Both men went to the stairs, but instead of getting up the old man murmured a password Harry didn't catch and a door appeared. They stepped inside. The room was cozy and agreeable, the walls were painted in light brown, and the ground was made in floor. The furniture was crafted in rich wood. Finally a fire was flaring in a black marble fireplace. The old man sat in an armchair in front of a desk and indicated to Harry to sit too. Once facing each other the vendor retrieved various documents and spoke.

"Lets see. Here are the papers, and here are the notes from the previous users who agreed to send some to us. I won't ask you to do the same as you've taken the only male still alive. It will be up to you to continue the breeding or not." The old man said as he held a thin book and an envelope to Harry.

"It eats the same thing as a regular dog; I suggest you find some book about Rottweilers. I could sale you one but I don't lower prices on books and with you're attitude... If you still want to check, everything on the bookshelves is for sell. You should wait a couple of month to buy any collar as there is no way to foresee its size. Train it and feed it yourself for the next months, it will be loyal to the death and would attack You-Know-Who to protect you." The old man continued as if he hadn't threatened Harry minutes earlier.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Hum… Why the shop upstairs?" Harry wondered.

"Aurors rarely come around, but do you think they'd appreciate my 'job' if they were to be in the neighborhood?"

The sarcasm in the reply was not lost to Harry but he let it drop as he got up, picked the dog's 'breed' file and checked the various books for sale. He picked several ones on Rottweilers (written by a Muggle-born), and four others on Phoenixes, Griffins, Shadow Panthers and Dragons. Watching for a second at his, _his_, puppy, he also picked a ball, a basket and a large cage to be able take it during his journey with Griphook.

"That will be 114 galleons, sir" the old man told him, barely sparing a glance at anything but the price tags on the items. Harry took hold of the bank draft handed to him, pricked his finger (again!) and let blood fall in the paper. The drops disappeared from the draft and a scarlet word appeared 'Transferred'.

Satisfied the shopkeeper got up and exited the room, Harry following him. Before heading back upstairs he locked his room again. Once upstairs, Harry left without a glance. The old man didn't say a word. For both of them it was the same thing: a good transaction made with someone they disliked.

Harry made it back to Diagon Alley; the dog, in its crate, was already sleeping. _Talk about confidence_ thought Harry as he watched his pet. _I could be ready to kill it for its fur and it sleeps… Maybe I made a bad business and it's stupid…_ His thoughts were rewarded by a growl from the puppy as soon as Harry though about the word 'kill'. Puzzled he decided to let it drop until he was sure and headed toward Gringotts. He passed just in front of Hermione Granger as he saw himself disappear. He sneered, what a group of morons. And they were supposed to be the elite? The war was already lost.

Harry stopped at _Owl Emporium_ to see if they had any books on dogs. He found one about dog training. He picked it up. His eyes caught an ad about a sale, in a few weeks, of animals from the Magical Zoo. Apparently, they were selling the pets of convicts as they were too many people whose possessions had been seized. Wondering if he might find Hedwig there, he pocked the advertisement and bought the book. Luckily he still had some sickles from the galleon Griphook had given him, and they managed to cover exactly the price of the item. He didn't feel too much like using his Blood Pin (again). He left the store and went back to the bank.

When he happened to be just opposite to the Apparition Point, he saw his younger self (once again). He smiled and made a wave to tell him to be careful with the Death Eater in his back, but 'younger' Harry was already gone. Sighing he climbed the stairs and went into the bank. When he passed the doors he was very careful not to look at them and especially not to read what was on them. He wasn't sure why but he knew he shouldn't. He met Griphook in the goblin's office.

"So Harry, how did it go?"

"These fuckers spilt my drink!" Harry growled, posing the puppy's crate on the floor.

"So?" the banker asked while Harry untied his belt.

"Well, they refused to pay, blood was shed. I even had to go to St. Mungos to get healed and what's worst is that I'm now wanted _again_. At least this time I did it." Harry explained angrily as he dropped the weapons on the goblin's desk then settled in an armchair.

"Don't worry too much. They haven't seen your face. It's only some officials' opinion I'd say. Maybe the public won't see it like that…" Griphook advanced.

"Griphook, I killed one, maimed another one and used the Cruciatus on a third one. I don't really think the public is going to love me for that. They're too much of sheep." Harry said.

"Oh… Don't worry, I'll have someone look into the _Prophets_ tomorrow's edition. If the people really are sheep, then they'll buy what the article will supply." Griphook returned with a (very) toothy smile.

Harry stared at him for ten seconds. "You can do _that_?"

"What?" the goblin asked innocently.

"Influence the news?"

"Of course we can Harry. We are holding the Wizarding finances, we have the power and right leverages to have what we want when we want it." Griphook answered sweetly. "It's just that we don't interfere with wizards' business; but for you I'll make an exception: you're a friend. And made me earn lots of money, I might add. By tomorrow evening, you'll be the new hero in the war against You-Know-Who."

"No thank you. I already had the job, it didn't really end the way I wanted." Harry answered sarcastically.

"Be that as it may Harry, you'll be in front page, either you want it or not. I just suggest a title against a warrant. What's your choice?" Griphook answered. Harry was good at manipulating when he wanted but the goblin was in another class. Bankers always tried to harm their colleagues' reputations, to survive you had to be the ultimate Slytherin and Griphook was just that: a survivor.

"Fine!" Harry growled. "Can we go now?"

"Just give me a few minutes to write a few owls. I'll be right back, then we'll leave." Said Griphook as he got up and left his office.

Harry staid sat, seething. He was to be a 'hero' again. He hated it. There was no way he was going to tell any one it was him. Luckily he had concealed his face and nobody had seen he had a beard. Well except Lona and the creepy old guy but he knew he didn't have to worry about it. After all, if he was in Knockturn Alley during the fight he couldn't have been involved, right?

One of the benefits when you staid in Azkaban for a decade is that your feelings are dulled; no more fear, not too much anger and a relatively good spirit (in Harry's case) but the disadvantage is that you can't stay put for five minutes: too Azkaban_ish_. Thus, Harry was in his friend's office and he was bored. He opened his dog's cage and took the puppy out. He put it on the ground and started playing with it. In an instant he was on the floor barking with his dog. Then everything went strange… _again!_

The dog 'transformed' in a black young wolf. He was still on the floor but it wasn't made of stone anymore, it was made of leaves. Looking around he noticed he was in a forest, not unlike the one he was 'in' during Diagon Alley's fight except it was much darker. He heard noise on his left. Turning sharply he saw three centaurs heading toward him. Two had armed bows pointed to him; the third was wearing an armor and had a sword in each hand. He looked smug. Harry wanted to know who they were. _Who are you?_ But instead it was other words that came out of his mouth. "So, ready to die? For stargazers you aren't sharper than horses!"

The centaurs' eyes narrowed. "You'll die tonight, Arctus. Warrior Mage or not."

Harry wanted to tell them they had the wrong guy. _I'm not Arctus, my name is Harry Potter._ But once again he said something else. "I seriously doubt a fat horse like you could do anything to me, but if you want, I'm willing to give you a good trashing. Just don't go crying like foals to your mothers once it's done."

Harry didn't understand what was going on. He was kind of scared (he was unarmed and they looked menacing) but at the same time he was excited and could feel his blood heating up. He was going to jump on the centaur on the left when he felt a hand on his right shoulder. The forest dissolved itself and revealed Griphook's office. Harry was kneeled on the floor and the goblin was eyeing him with concern.

"Are you all right my friend?"

"Yes…" Harry answered after a few seconds. "I'm ok. Thanks. Are we going then?"

"Yes, pick up your… stuffs" the goblin said as he indicated the puppy. "A portkey is awaiting us. It will bring us to the departure station."

Harry and Griphook took their bags and cage and left to Ragnok's office. The chief and a wizard were there. Without a word they gave them a circle made of some metal. The second Harry and Griphook touched it, they felt a hook behind their navel as they were whisked away.

They reappeared in front of a wooden house. Harry managed not to fall. That is to say, he had the right knee on the ground and was supporting himself with his right arm, but he wasn't on the floor, a good improvement since his Hogwarts' years. The puppy seemed to especially dislike this way of travel, it made Harry smile, something that Griphook felt didn't happened enough.

They were met by a goblin who lead them into the house. When he stepped in, Harry discovered he was wrong. It wasn't a house, it was a stable. There were lots of horses that... No… Not horses… Pegasi!

The 'horses' were pure white with golden manes and tails. Their powerful wings were neatly folded against their side. The eyes were purple and shined with intelligence and pride. The Pegasi were just magnificent, Harry was in awe. He extended his arm and, with the goblins' permission, patted the nearest Pegasus' wings. The feathers were soft as silk and hard as steel. Unfortunately for Harry and the Pegasus, they didn't have much time: the destination was far and there was just the right amount of daylight left.

Four goblins went out from a hidden door, caring reins and saddles. They started getting the Pegasi ready as Harry remembered. He was much younger. It was a sunny day. He was in a stable not unlike this one and people were going everywhere to prepare the horses. He was getting ready to go and hunt with his father when all of a sudden a scream… Wait! ... Where did that come from? … He had never ridden a horse, much less hunted with his father, or Uncle Vernon for the matter…

Puzzled Harry didn't acknowledge the goblins' clear go to mount his Pegasus nor did he react when they fasten his puppy's casing to the back of a saddle. In a daze, without hearing what he was told, Harry followed the instruction he was given. He got his thoughts back under control some times later. He didn't know where he was or how long he had been riding. All he knew was that they were going very fast, he could feel the wind in his hair; still he wasn't cold but was bored to death. After what felt like hours but could have been minutes if he had been occupied, Harry saw a big mountain. It wasn't tall per say, more like wide. He was trying to differ where he was when the Pegasus went into a dive. Five seconds later, Harry was back on the ground. With precise movements he untied his cage and joined Griphook who looked elated.

Two goblins came toward them.

The guards were handling spears and pointed them at him. He dropped his purchases and made a step on the right, narrowly missing the tip's edge. He tried to send a dart but he didn't have any more. He quickly ducked the second spear and pulled out his wand. He was in a narrowed space and couldn't out run them. Making a decision in a split second he feinted to the right and jumped on his left. He finished in a roll on the ground. Quickly getting up he fired several stunners, disarming hexes and a cutting hex. They were all side stepped or blocked. He was in trouble. These guys were good and he didn't have his weapons. He used 'Glacius' and froze the ground between the goblins and him. While they didn't move any more he slid on the ice toward them. At the last moment he jumped and caught one of the guards' spears. Quickly knocking him out he started to spare with the second. He was hard pressed but he finally saw his opening when his enemy spear was stuck in the earth; he had a clear shot at the goblin's left flank. He sent a powerful reducto. He was already smiling of his victory when a disk of metal appeared from no-where and took the blast.

He heard "Harry!" At the same time, the light disappeared. He was in the dark: one of these nights without moon. And then he saw him. Griphook his friend was beside him, holding his dog. He looked at him with concern. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Hum… Yeah… Why?"

"Harry," Griphook hesitated for a second. "You attacked my brother and my father…"

"But… But the spears?" Harry mumbled.

"Harry, there was no spears. What happened?" Griphook asked

"I don't know. It's like in Diagon Alley. I was there and all of a sudden I'm somewhere else… I don't know what's going on…" Harry stuttered while getting on his knees.

Griphook helped Harry to get up and lead him to a platform. In a few globlinoid words he got a portkey that he activated quickly. They landed in a small room with walls and ground made of stone. Harry hardly heard the 'Welcome home' Griphook muttered. He was put in a bed without undressing. As sleep claimed him, he could only wonder _What is happening to me?_

* * *

**_I'd like to appologize for the delay between these two chapters. I was really busy (had my finals...) and couldn'tspent that much time on the story. I'll make sure to have a few chapters ready before the next end of term exams... :-)_**

**_Considering the dog, well I've read so many stories (some of them very good) were Harry has a snake that I felt something else would be better. Furthermore, I had already read stufs with cats, griffins, etc. but no dogs, so... If any of you has an idea of name for the dog, hit me. I've got a potential one but it's not definite and won't be until the next update, so feel free to tell me in your reviews._**

**_For those who want to know a bit more about Hermione, Ginny & Co's life now, don't worry, it's coming in the next couple of chapters._**

**_In any cas, HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all!_**

**_Thanks for reading and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, REVIEW!_**


	6. Past Answers

Disclaimers: Come on guys... Do you really think I'd be writting a fan fiction if I owned Harry Potter?

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**Chapter 6:**** Past Answers**

Hermione Granger wasn't very pleased with her day. It was supposed to be their anniversary, a day of celebration. She had planned it for weeks now and nothing had gone as it should have. First there was Harry's Will Reading. It was depressing and difficult, but it finally ended pretty well: he had forgiven her and the others. Things could have continued to go well after that. She was supposed to meet Ginny, have a couple of drinks and girl talk, then shopping for sexy underwear, a romantic dinner and finally some quality time with Neville. But nooo… Death Eaters had to fuck it up! Was it to much to ask? Just one day of peace? She was doing her part; couldn't she have a bit of time for herself?

Instead of drinks and girl talk, she had to make a portkey powerful enough to break an Anti-Apparition (and Anti-Portkey) ward. Then there was this guy in a dark cloak. He knew her, and she was pretty sure she knew him too. His voice wasn't unknown, just… just like coming from the past; but when in the past? If the guy wasn't an enigma enough like this, he had to disappear when nobody could and take Seamus Finnigan with him. Where did they go? She didn't know anything, just that they found the Auror twenty minutes later, out cold, bonded and gagged in a dark corner of the Alley. Now she had to wait as Neville was interrogating his subordinate to glean information. The dinner was burned, she was hungry, cold and pissed off. She was seriously considering getting dressed and Apparate to the Ministry when she heard a loud 'POP' and Neville's voice.

"Honey, I'm home!"

"About time too! What took you so long?" Hermione asked in suppressed anger

Sensing a fight coming up, Neville tried to sooth her. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I took more time than planned."

Obviously it wasn't the good thing to say and Neville knew it the second the words exited his mouth.

"MORE TIME? NEVILLE IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING! YOU STAYED THERE FOR THE LAST NINE HOURS! NINE HOURS! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU WHAT DAY IT IS?" Hermione screamed beside herself.

Neville groaned. Even the temper of Ginny Thom-, no Weasley, wasn't enough to rival the Unspeakable when she was angry and Merlin she was angry today.

"I didn't realize it was that late pumpkin, but I suggest you lower your voice, what about the neighbors? Do _I_ have to remind you, who wanted to live in a muggle area?"

Hermione had the decency to look sheepish (just a bit mind you) as she moved her wand Silencing the room. She crossed her arms, still wand out and growled.

"So? I'm listening. What's the story this time?"

Neville swallowed. It wasn't his fault per say but he knew that from Hermione's point of view it was. Furthermore, she was technically his superior and could learn everything she wanted from his reports. Still he was hard pressed: the interrogation didn't go that well… Stuffs were revealed and it wasn't the right timing. He was trying to find what to say (and especially what to hide and how) when his girlfriend's voice brought him back to the current situation (that and also the small pain Curse she had just hit him with).

Calmly Neville made his way to the sofa and Summoned two glasses and a bottle of FireWiskey. He sat and served himself. He emptied his drink in one gulp. As he filled the glasses Hermione settled herself in an armchair. Finally Neville took a deep breath and started to talk.

"I guess you know what happened until we portkeyed to the Ministry, with the three Death Eaters, the corpse and Seamus?"

Hermione nodded.

"Everything was great. We had three prisoners that we managed to lock up before any rescue mission could come to us. The dead guy happened to be Morag MacDougal the Ravenclaw who went to school with us. The Head gave us a warrant and we went to search his house. We didn't find anything until one of us suggested getting a Curse Breaker. I went to Gringotts and asked for Bill Weasley. Apparently he fucked up something as he is suspended… Any way, I managed to track him at his parents', being stuffed by his mother. When we came back he started to cast some revealing spells. I've never been so ashamed in my life: in five minutes clock in hand, he discovered three secret rooms and took the wards down. The first room was a library, full of Dark Art volumes. The second was a potion lab, kind of well furnished."

"Kind of?" asked Hermione.

"Well, there wasn't a single legal ingredient, but it was well furnished enough to make some good poisons and Dark Potions. The third room contained four cells. The two first were empty. The third and fourth had one muggle girl each. Apparently they are from Ireland. He captured them four or five months ago and kept them under the Imperius. They were his sex-slaves. They were able to describe the face of two or three dozen of men who 'enjoyed' themselves with them, but…"

"But what!" spat Hermione.

"But they are muggles and you know very well that they wouldn't be considered as valuable witnesses in court. If we didn't know these guys we could have tried to follow them and get some stuff to justify a home search but we already suspect them, or should I say 'know them but are unable to prove it'? Anyway, we Obliviated the girls of anything magical and dropped them in a hospital. Until then, everything was good."

Neville posed as he refilled his drink and collected his thoughts.

"It's when we came back to the Ministry that the shit started: the three cells were empty. Nobody knew anything. It's as if they had never been were there. The personal belongings were gone, there was no file, no entry log, not even a single hair left! When I asked where the items from MacDougal's place were, nobody knew. I finally found the guy I had left in charge of the cataloging. He was dead. Later we learned he had somehow eaten a poisoned stuff… As if! I mean, we all have a bezoar with us and the guy manage to poison himself with a cookie? Come on!"

Neville's rant was stopped by Hermione's question. "And the Dark books and ingredients?" He inwardly swore. There was no way he could hide anything from her, she was too smart. He knew there was no point in turning around the bush.

"Gone. As far as the Minister is concerned, they never were in the Ministry, nobody saw them. Apparently we never even found them. I'm supposed to have dreamed about it." Neville shook his head. "Bill isn't supposed to have been there and you know how he is considered at the Ministry. The werewolf than doesn't transform… They don't like him very much even if they can't do anything about him...

"Then I interrogated Seamus to see if he knew something about the dark guy. Guess what? He doesn't! He claims the guy just changed place; with him of course. He says it wasn't Apparition nor a Portkey. Then he doesn't remember. He doesn't know where they were, what happened, just that we woke him twenty minutes after. We gave him a potion to see if had been Obliviated but it didn't react. We made our report and I was ready to come home when something happened."

Neville posed and drunk his glass. He didn't say anything for a good minute or two. Hermione was hoping in her seat. Finally, unable to contain herself anymore she asked "Well?"

Neville let a small smile grace his face at his girlfriend's impatience. He considered keeping a bit quiet, just to unnerve her, but decided it might no be the best course of action (especially after this pain Curse earlier).

"I was leaving when Terry came running and yelling I had to come and see. It appears that Seamus was tranquilly writing his rapport when all of a sudden he started to glow." Neville said. He posed to let it sink in and just added, "A dark blue glow."

Hermione covered her mouth. "My…"

"Exactly my thought… We checked him more thoughtfully and discovered he had indeed a Memory block. The thing is, it took very long for the potion to react. We have been able to pin point the Charm to his last couple of years in Hogwarts and proceeded to restore his memory. It was probably the biggest error of our lives."

"Why?" Hermione asked, bewildered. She had never been Obliviated (the Department of Mysteries was sure to make an in depth search every month) but she believed that every block should be removed. To her, you had to be whole to make decisions and understand things; and whole meant with a full memory. She couldn't bear the idea of missing a part of her mind.

Neville sighed. "Because there were actually five superposed Charms. Once we broke the three first ones, their energy was transferred to the two others. In short, if we were to touch the fourth one, Seamus would forget some events for ever."

"So? I mean, it's not like he knows what is hidden so he couldn't care less about them."

"The problem, dear, is that we broke the three first ones. Meaning he remembers some things. Some _very_ unpleasant things. What we would like to know is what is hidden behind these blocks."

"Why? It won't do any good, especially if the first memories were that bad. Maybe he asked for the Charm in order to be able to keep on going…" Hermione theorized.

Neville shook his head. "Love, the Memory Charms were superposed, not continued… Meaning he remembered a bit more each time we removed a block. Right know, he knows nearly everything but the faces of…"

Neville abruptly stopped and sighed. He had talked too much! Knowing Hermione as he knew her (and he knew her very well), she wouldn't miss the opportunity and would press him until he told her everything.

Right in time, Hermione asked "The faces of whom?"

Neville tried to play dumb "Hum? What are you talking about sweet- OUCH!" Unfortunately, you can't do that and date the cleverest witch of the generation at the same time. Hermione's eyes were narrowed as she kept her wand pointed at his privates… "This Pain Curse hurts very much 'Mione!"

"So talk! And don't even try to sweet talk me out of it or you'll be sleeping on the sofa for the next twenty years!"

Neville swallowed. The sofa threat was only used as a last resort when she was really pissed. _Well, there is still an ultimate threat_, thought Neville,_ but I really would like to believe I can prevent her leaving me…_ Finally, his Gryffindor's courage abandoned him and he retold the horrible confession of their former classmate.

"When we took the first Charm out, Seamus remembered being put under the Imperius Curse. He didn't know by whom or for what purpose, just that it stayed on him until Graduation Day."

"When… When the second block was gone, he… he remembered a bit more. He remembered using an Unforgivable." He held his hand to prevent the question he knew was coming. "The Avada Kedavra." Neville sighed.

"Finally, with the third Charm taken care of, he remembered a few more things. He was given Polyjuice Potion by a student, but he doesn't know who or from which House, just that he didn't like the person and it wasn't the one who controlled him, even thought they were working together. I personally believe it was a Slytherin as Seamus had a good relation with everyone but the Snakes since he's a half-blood."

Neville stopped as tears started to fill his eyes. "He also remembered who he killed."

Hermione didn't say anything. Her mind was blank. She had memories coming back at her.

* * *

"_Still it must be someone we know…"_

"_What? What do you mean? What do _you_ know?"_

"_Nothing Herm', just a passing though…"_

"_You know what's worst? The more I think about it the more I believe we are, or at least were, friend with the one who did it."_

* * *

"_I had time to think you know. I figure someone must have used some Polyjuice then knock me cold when I came back to the common room, steal my wand, kill Ron in front of everybody, drop it and leave like if I had realized I had made a blunder. Simple but ingenious, like every plan involving Polyjuice."_

* * *

"_I don't know what you are talking about! I didn't do it! I went to see Professor Trelawney!"_

"_You left her thirty minutes before your 'supposed' _first_ return to the Common Room. Difficult to believe it took you so long Mr. Potter…"_

"_I fell in the stairs! I was knocked out and when I woke up, I had nausea, I couldn't get up!"_

"_A bit too convenient Mr. Potter, don't you think? No more question to the accused, Minister."_

* * *

Tears fell on Hermione's cheeks. She looked at Neville who was furiously whipping his own. When their eyes met, she went to ask him confirmation but he was quicker. With a nod he sadly said: 

"He killed Ron."

..ooOoo..

Harry woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. With a groan he got up, careful not to make his dog. _I still need to find a name for him_ he thought. The moonlight bathing the room and the cold feel of stone against his bare feet helping to calm the pounding of his heart, he quietly made his way to the window and looked at the trees reflected in the night.

It was the seventh day of his stay in goblins' territory. At the beginning it was great, there were so many things to see and learn, like the fact that the entire city was inside mountains. At first Harry didn't understand why the goblins lived in the hillsides when the mounts were encircling a large forest better suited to shelter them, but Kilag, Griphook's father, had told him…

"This forest is magic, Mr. Potter. All the magical species you ever heard of live there. Unfortunately, some shouldn't exist. There are some 'mutants' we should have hunted but nobody is strong enough for that. I've already lost three sons to the trees; please don't go there."

"What is so dangerous in this forest?"

Kilag hadn't answered for a long time before he pulled out a golden necklace. There was a medallion attached to it, or at least it was what Harry thought.

"Look closely Mr. Potter. This is the last gift of my second son. It's a scale he found in the forest. It looks quite ordinary, but watch…"

The goblin took the scale in his hand and it started changing color. It went from black to red, then to gold, silver, blue, etc, an infinity of colors and then turned back to black.

"I just have to think of a color and the scale matches my thought… And I'm just holding it… Can you imagine the kind of magic possesses an animal with a skin composed of those? Trust my words Mr. Potter; you don't want to go in there."

Harry hadn't totally believed him and wanted to have a go, just to see if he could see some phoenixes or Griffins, but the next day seven young went in the forest. 'To have fun' they claimed. Three came back and they didn't survive more than a few hours despite the effort of the best healers… It clearly stopped Harry's exploration projects.

Harry had learned some valuable lessons. He was considered a guest, therefore nobody would lie to him nor disrespect him even though he could tell some didn't like the idea of a human roaming free in their land. He had also learned the hierarchical structure of goblins as well as their way of life. A whole part of the mountain, the Sanctitus, was forbidden to men (him included). There lived the Galif, the goblins' women. No male but the Hundel (the Chief Sorcerer Goblin), a nice and very old fellow named Gorian, had the right to enter this part without express invitation. All the men hoped to be invited once to be selected as mate by one of the few in the short population of women. Every single male had to serve in the army for ten years before being allowed to do any other work (usually go to Gringotts). To Harry it felt like an awfully long time; until he learned that Griphook, a relatively young goblin was sixty-seven years old.

The first days had been great for Harry. He had explored the whole town. He had found the shopping center, that is to say the only five shops goblins ever used. The blacksmith, Klag, who sold all kind of weapons and armor; the Potion store, the Food center, the Clothing company and last but not least the Convenience. Convenience sold Newspapers, parchment, quills, ink, pets and provided Post owl.

Harry had been glad to find the Clothing company. He liked being a wizard and all, but he had to confess he preferred pants to robes. He didn't have anything against robes, it's just that he didn't like to have his 'privates' stroked by the wind… Furthermore, he felt it lacked style. He had asked for tailor made pants (he could hardly wear Globin's…) and had his robes open in the middle. They now looked like a cloak, except they were tighter and closer to the body.

Convenience had also been a source of both satisfaction and dissatisfaction. He had tried to buy a new owl, but none had pleased him. He resigned himself to go at the Magical Zoo's auction two weeks later, hoping to find Hedwig or a replacement. He had taken a subscription to the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. Every morning a young goblin, around ten or twelve years old, would come and deliver them. Harry gave him a Knut every time for his efforts; it seemed to please the kid a lot; why, Harry didn't have a clue until Griphook explained it to him.

"Your payment is a way of showing he has a valor Harry. A kid this age doesn't make a Sickle a week with around twenty deliveries a day. By giving him that much money you increase his status among his friends and in his work. If you keep giving him a Knut a day instead of one a week or so, like the others do, in less than a month he won't deliver the Newspapers anymore but the weapons and will gain much more money and respect as we are a warrior society."

Harry didn't give a damn about the social status thing and continued paying every day; he even doubled the fees when he received good news. He had kept the Headlines concerning him and glued them in a journal he had found in his bottom-less bag. The titles were always interesting.

**

* * *

**

SAVIOR IN DIAGON ALLEY! DEATH EATER ATTACK SQUASHED BY MYSTERIOUS MAN

_What does the Ministry do?_ By Colin Creevey

**

* * *

**

MINISTRY WASTE EFFORTS AGAINST OUTSTANDING CITIZENS INSTEAD OF DEATH EATERS

_The Ministry of Magic researches the man who squashed yesterday's attack. Fear of seeing someone better than them doing the right thing?_ By Susan Bones

**

* * *

**

THE BODY OF HARRY POTTER DISAPPEARES A BIT MORE EVERY HOUR!

_Ministry hides the facts: Boy-Who-Lived is alive._ By Luna Lovegood

**

* * *

**

AUROR FOUND GUILTY OF MURDER UNDER THE EFFECT OF IMPERIUS CURSE

_It has been discovered that a fellow classmate was responsible for the murder Harry Potter has been accused and convicted of. B_y Mathilda Ronston

* * *

Harry smiled sadly at the memories of these Headlines as they brought him back to his insomnias. He knew he had done what he should have but it didn't help him avoid the nightmares about the man he had killed. He didn't feel guilty per say but unconsciously he kind of did… He always 'saw' the guy in Diagon Alley before plunging his dagger into his throat and tearing it in shambles. He felt like he couldn't wash the blood away… In addition to that, when he was awake he had either very painful headaches or visions of fights. 

Sighing, Harry made his way to the living room. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. He plunged himself in an armchair and took the TV remote control. He had been a bit surprised to see that goblins used a lot of Muggles' machines, but now he was glad. It gave him something to do when he couldn't sleep. Furthermore he had found a channel he liked to watch. SciFi aired good series he enjoyed. He switched a bit until he found it. It was a marathon for some show named FarScape.

He became engrossed in it. Apparently, it was the story of a guy named John Crichton, who, through a scientific experiment, found himself at the other side of the universe, accused of a murder he didn't commit. _Sound familiar_. He was in a totally different world he didn't know existed, where everybody felt like things were very simple whereas the guy spent twenty minutes to understand how to open a door… _Still sound familiar_. He had the armies of both sides in a war against him. _Very familiar_. He had no choice but to become a killer and a hero he didn't want to be. _Hey! Did someone adapt my life in TV?_ He had no allies but a few people considered as trash because of their specie. _Man, I love this show._ Harry decided to name his dog D'Argo, after one of the hero's friends. One who represented honor, courage, strength and tenderness. Also it did help that this name had a resemblance to his nemesis' name: D'Argo, Draco… No worse insult than having your name (or one close to it) used for your enemy's pet.

"D'Argo?" Harry said. He heard a bit of noise behind him and his dog came to him.

"D'Argo?" Harry repeated. His dog licked his hand and Harry felt contentment and acceptation through the mental bond he shared with his familiar. He smiled at the feeling, hoping the link would increase and enable them, one day, to talk without words.

He took the remote control to lower the sound and… He was holding a tea cup, his love sat on the floor next to him, when he heard a commotion outside... Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his respiration, counting until ten. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the living room.

He took his dog on his laps and resumed watching the screen. A couple minutes later he had felt asleep for a few hours.

Harry didn't wake up until D'Argo jumped abruptly on the floor. It was daylight. Griphook was there, holding a tin with the dog's food.

"Problem sleeping?" the goblin asked as he settled the food on the floor.

"Yeah" Harry sighed. He tried to remember if he had any nightmare, but the only thing he heard was "Clear your mind". Like it made any cense… The only person to have ever told him that was Snape. Bloody Snivellus Snape. How come he dreamed of something the Death Eater had told him years ago when he was widening his link with Voldemort?

"I'll go get a shower" said Harry. Griphook nodded. "By the way, his name is D'Argo."

"Ah. You finally chose one. Any reason why this one?"

"Because it means strength, courage and tenderness; and at the same times it will probably pisses Malfoy, so…"

Griphook smirked at his friend's retreating form. Harry could be so mature, as his handling of Death Eaters had proved, and so immature, like the second reason of this name, at the same time. It was disconcerting to say the least.

..ooOoo..

Harry settled himself in a couch, the sun caressing his face. He closed his eyes hoping to get a bit more of sleep before breakfast. He knew he had time as Kilag, Griphook's father, tended to get up late. He was a very respected man among goblins. He had been chosen as a mate by three Galif… the majority of Goblins weren't even considered worthy enough to bed one Gali but the guy managed to get three. An exploit in goblin's standards…

Unfortunately for Harry, sleep, breakfast and lunch weren't part of his schedule. The second he closed his eyes, instead of the dark that grace common people he saw a pale blue area, like the sky, with nine black boxes floating in front of him. Startled, Harry opened his eyes. Everything was like it was a second earlier. He closed his eyes again, darkness great him. He heard the hated voice of his former Potion Master "Clear your mind". A bit puzzled he did exactly that, and gradually light appeared until he was back in the sky like place with the nine boxes. He tried to move but couldn't. He also noticed that with each attempted movement the light grew darker.

He relaxed and willed himself close to a box. Nothing happened. He tried harder. Still nothing; then a trunk (they were too big to be considered as simple boxes) moved toward him until it rested in front of him and opened itself. It revealed two containers that were filled with a grey/silver liquid. Harry hardly had the time to want to touch it than a strand of this liquid rose from both containers and connected to his forehead.

Pain. Unbelievable pain cursed through his veins, brains, heart, as the liquid entered his brow. The pain was everywhere. He screamed and screamed. Until his throat was too hoarse to do anything hurt. For days, minutes, centuries, hours, years, seconds he screamed. Then the truck disappeared and it stopped. He didn't know how long he remained like that before he had absorbed the whole liquid, and frankly he didn't care. He was just glad it was finished. He was going to open his eyes when he understood it wasn't over.

Everything in front of him changed, until he was in a circular room made of stone with an old woman sat in front of him. He didn't say anything as she started to talk with monotony.

"Occlumency is the art of organizing and shielding your mind against invasion. With the proper training, one is able to recognize an intrusion, stop it, direct it while hiding thoughts and memories, and even create fakes memories to indulge in error the attacker. Now in order to protect your mind…"

In a second, or a century, Harry was taught Occlumency. He was directed in building his mental shields, tested in his memory protection, in his fake ones building. He understood why it was often better to let people gain access to your mind and then to redirect and induce them in error than just keep them out. He assimilated how to recognize a threat, how to give lies the perfume of truth, how to attack one too deeply immersed in his thoughts and above all he learned how to use his connection to Voldemort, with minimum effort and without alerting the Dark Lord, he learned how to block him and, if he wanted, to control the body of this threat to life itself. In short, his mind was as well known to him as the back of his hand and as secure as possible: his walls were tied to his subconscious; nothing, short of death, could force him to drop his shields, even if he were to be tortured for days.

The old woman sat back and started to talk again.

"Legimency is the art of attacking and invading another mind. With the proper training, one is able to intrude in a mind, search for memories, knowledge the other have, even make the difference between lies and truths. One properly trained in the art can know with barely a glance what the enemy thinks and what the opponent will do before he even does it. Now in order to be able to gain access to another mind…"

In the blink of an eye, during the life and death of generations of humans, Harry learned how to delve into minds, how to foul shields, how to modulate his strength until he was discrete and powerful or obvious and weak. He was taught how to look for memories, how to interpret his findings, how to dissociate feelings to avoid overwhelming and detection. He was coached in making the distinction between Memory Charms and shields, how to pass through unbreakable vows without disrupting the magic in them, how to know just by hearing if someone lied, believed to lie, told the truth, had created fake memories to support their claim, been Obliviated. He learned to be the perfect mind rapist and only man who would never be fouled by his sixteen-year-old-daughter telling him she was just going to sleep at a friend's (not to her boyfriend's, come one dad!).

Tired, weak and at the same time stronger than he had ever been, Harry opened his eyes. He was back into his couch, D'Argo sleeping at his feet, a plate of sandwiches on a small table next to him with Bendog juice (a goblin specialty). It was Harry's favorite drink. It was sweet and silky yellow, like flavored milk, with an indescribable taste that had the particularity of becoming foul and dark green if anything was added to it, be it water, sugar or basilisk poison. A small note let him know he had been in the same state (whatever it was) for hours and had missed breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Smiling, Harry ate the sandwiches (roast beef and salad) while reviewing what he had learned in Hogwarts. He noticed his memories were much clearer and that he remembered every single lesson he attended (except those where he slept, namely History of Magic). He also discovered he had neglected lots of Charms and Transfiguration in his life. _Who would have thought that McGonagall's first class could be used in battles?_ He wondered: transfiguring a piece of wood in a needle was so easy; applying a Multiply or a Banishing Charm wasn't hard either. So, with a toothpick and three Charms you could literally nail a guy to a door…

With a soft chuckle Harry finished his drink, lied down in the reclining chair and closed his eyes. Instantly he was back in the sky like place, eight trunks surrounding him. He willed one of the trunks to come to him. All of them came fast forward, narrowly missing to crush him. _Whoa… Occlumency clearly helps to have a better focus._ He concentrated on one specially that came slowly to rest in front of him. With a deep breath he 'mentally' open the lid. Harry just had the time to think _the liquid is the same grey/silvery color_ before a strand rose and connected to his forehead (again).

No point in saying what happened next as even Harry's brain couldn't understand anything through the pain that coursed his body. When it dimmed Harry found himself back in the stone room, his 'classroom'. Another woman was sat in front of him. Like the previous one, she started talking in a monotonous voice.

"Runes magic is a very ancient and powerful art. The first wizards didn't have an understanding of magic good enough to use foci, therefore they had to write down their spells' effects with drawings. The principle of rune magic is to carve or write symbols. Their meanings are unchanging and eternal. A Master can create his owns by combining pre-existing runes but can't pass them to his apprentices: their creator have a connection with them, nobody else can understand their meaning without an extensive study which doesn't have any purpose as it requires more work that creating your own set. The basic of runes is…"

As generations of wizards lived and died, as countless war were carried, Harry sat and learned the fine art of runes magic. He was taught the basic sets, how to combine them, how to empower runes, how to set areas affected by a single runes. He was shown how to practically use them in fight or everyday life. He was pushed in understanding various Masters set, like Merlin's, Ravenclaw's and Mortis' (a Dark Lord of the fifth century who nearly conquered the globe) before creating his own set of runes. With one of them he could destroy a city or rise Atlantis from the sea (granted it required countless uninterrupted days to do it, but the point was: he could do it).

The second Harry had finished his own set of runes (based on war, no surprise there), he felt something pulling him. The 'classroom' melted in a black shape that rearranged itself in the 'departure' room, or at least it was the name Harry had given to the place where he felt like hanging in the sky with boxes full of knowledge around him.

Sighing and a bit afraid by the pain he knew would come, Harry willed a trunk close to him, then another and another, until all of them had opened and transferred their knowledge to him.

He was shown how select the right feathers, how to prepare a heartstring, which wood use, how to attune metal and stone. He was taught how to use blood, hair, teeth and bones, how to make a wand, staff, sword, dagger, etc, as a focus for magic, how to create the best match possible and how to have more than one component. He was educated in the fine art of foci crafting until he could easily best Ollivanders.

He was initiated to Wards, their principles and how they operated. He learnt how to tie one to focal stones, how to combine them, how to unable in-Apparition but stop out-Apparition. He was taught wards, regular ones, ancient ones, blood wards, dark wards and Dark ones (the former being forbidden by the Ministries, the latter being really Dark, as they had protection: from a simple energy barrier to death by slow combustion, or a Cruciatus Curse and total Obliviation.). The integrality of wards became a second nature to him. Proximity wards, recognition wards, etc.

He was educated in all the plants on Earth, even the ones exterminated, their use and properties. He was shown how to brew, the reason behind the use of certain cauldrons, of the stirring and the reaction between ingredients. He was taught every potion imaginable. He learned all the regular potions, from the simple healing ones to the Wolfsbane, the lost ones, from limb grower to eyes correction, and even the Dark Brewages, the Imperius potion, the bone remover, undetectable poison and more. In the blink of an eye, as generations of wizards graduated from Hogwarts, he became the more accomplished Potion Master to ever walk Earth.

He was taught (not shown, that's a private thing) Sex Magic: how to maintain an erection for years if need be, how to induce an orgasm (or ten), how to attract people and how to block Vela Charm. He had lessons on nervous system of the male and female body either Human, Elf, Dwarf, Vampire, Centaur, Goblin, House Elf and more. He knew how to stir the desire or how to repress it. He could make a man screaming of lust or render a woman unconscious of pleasure. He knew every single Contraceptive Charm, from a one-hour protection to life sterilization, for both sexes of all races. He became the accomplished lover without even having sex once.

He was shown how to Slide, how to make himself inconspicuous, how to 'feel' Wards and bypass them. He was taught the relation and differences between Sliding and Apparition. He learnt to be able to Slide while eating, fighting, sleeping, even being tortured. He honed this skill until he could escape bullets (everything is good for magical training! Even muggle technology has its uses…)

He was transferred in other bodies and witnessed wars. He was Arctus the Warrior Mage, a lone mercenary in the Middle Ages, a goblin during one of the revolts, an Elf during the Last War, a GI in Normandy, a Roman legionnaire conquering Spain, a Russian peasant attacking the Tsar's castle. He was Salazaar Slytherin fighting Godric Gryffindor (he lost…), he was Master Vampire Brad during an attack on a renegades' Covent, he was an elf child as his mansion was attacked by blood thirsty wizards, he was a wizard attacked by four Vampires in a forest. He was a teenager caught doing magic and burned by the town people (luckily the guy knew the Flam Freezing Charm and how to Apparate), he was a muggle tortured by the Dark Lord Scorpius, he was a Centaur killing intruders, he was a Death Eater raping a young (and pretty) muggle…

He saw and experienced the best and worst of humanity in times of war, be it from the point of view of one side (or the other), the victims or another race. He studied Battle tactics, traps, use of spies, etc. He was shown why 'he' won or lost battles, how to avoid being hit in the back, how to recognize threats, to know when a battle was lost and retreat, how to use people spying on him, the benefit of using portkeys (not a great deal as he didn't know how to make one, but still…). He understood the benefit of treating his soldiers and allies as if they were his children, why he should always keep some strength and abilities hidden and also why he shouldn't leave any enemy alive but to instill fear in the opponent's ranks. But above all he was taught (and that was drilled in his head) not to hesitated to strike, to kill and maim without remorse, to always keep a mental map of his enemies position, to use Legimency and Occlumency when dueling and to never _never_ leave an ally on the battlefield.

Finally he was back at the 'departure room'. One single trunk, twice the size of the others was there waiting for him. Harry knew what was in it: Sword knowledge. He was excited about it but… well… lets say that nobody likes to jump in front of a Cruciatus just for fun. Harry wasn't different and the pain ahead didn't really appeal to him. He decided to take a break.

Opening his eyes he noticed the light had dimmed. _Already sunset? I didn't realize it took so long…_ he thought. D'Argo was settled on his torso looking at him. _No wonder I had difficulties to breath during the Battle Knowledge course…_

"Hey D'Argo. You know, daddy loves you very much but could you just bugger off? Hmph" Harry said as he 'directed' (meaning dropped) his dog on the floor.

"You know D'Argo, you _are_ getting bigger. The timed aging effect must be working. Lets go to bed" He said as he got up.

"Up already?" a voice asked behind him.

Spinning like lighting, his wand targeted toward the voice Harry came face to face with Griphook who quickly held his hand in the air.

"Hey! What's the matter?" the goblin snarled.

"Sorry…" Harry answered a bit sheepish "A bit dodgy, you know, Azkaban, training, stuffs like that…"

"What ever… So, D'Argo didn't let you sleep? I know he is a growing dog but still… I mean you were still there when I went to bed and you're up before me…"

"Hmm… I'm not sure I follow you Griphook… What time is it?"

"Well it's seven in the morning, as if you didn't know the time of the day…"

"As a matter of fact, I don't. I though it was sunset…" Harry answered scratching his head (meaning 'I'm really confused, what's going on?")

"Err… No, it's sunrise… You mean to tell me you've spent the whole night on the terrace with your dog!"

"Hmm… Well, it's not like I… Ok, I did. Happy now?" Harry responded, hesitantly at first and with a bit of irritation in the end.

"I'll be happy when you'll feed your dog, make sure he had a walk in the garden and go to sleep 'till lunch time. Then I'll be happy." Griphook growled as Harry made his way to the kitchen and started unpacking some raw meat.

"I remind you we are supposed to go to the auctions at the Zoo in two days. If you want to be dead on your feet because you lack sleep, fine by me, but don't you dare be in a foul mood if that happens!"

"It's ok. Don't worry about it, just make sure we're there at least an hour before the sales start. I want to have seats in the front, just in case there is a pull from some animal." Harry replied, suppressing a yawn.

He put the food on the floor and said "I'll grap a shower before sleeping. And don't bugger me with D'Argo soiling your carpet. It never happened and he was trained in three days… Thus it will never happen! Off my back then!"

As he took a towel and went into the bathroom, Harry heard Griphook murmuring "Yah yah yah, and my dog is a cross with phoenix and griffins, and he is very clever, and you won't find one better than him, and he is very strong, and he is very loyal, and he is very nice, and yah yah yah…"

In a few minutes Harry was cleaned, dried and in his bed. He just had time to see D'Argo jumping at his feet before he felt asleep.

* * *

**_I'm very sorry I took so long to update (I really am!). I promise I'll be good and do it more often. To be forgiven I'll try to post chapter 7 in a week or so._**

**_I hope you didn't find the chapter's title too lousy, I didn't want to put something like 'Answers from the past', but at the same time keeping the idea of some answers (the murder, the visions) all coming from somehing that happened in the past... Please! Don't be mad at me! puppy eyes... ;-)_**

**_The dog (D'Argo then as I didn't have many propositions and couldn't think of anything) is just an experiment from the 'mad scientist'. It's not a kind of magical animal like the runespoor or the basilisk._**

**_Next chapter will be about Ginny (a bit), the auction, swords and more..._**

**_Please continue to review._**

**_Thanks._**


	7. Red Fury

Disclaimer: Smoking Kills

* * *

Chapter 7: Red Fury

Ginny woke up shivering. Her eyes still closed she extended her arm, looking for Dean's heat, but she only met coldness… Startled she sat up in a swift movement and looked around the room. Everything was as she left it before going to sleep, meaning he hadn't come home. _The fourth time in a row_ she thought.

In her sleeping state she could hardly understand her lover. Truth be told, she never could, even perfectly awake. They had had this huge row a couple of weeks ago and now… Well it was just not the same anymore, before that, he often staid out at night only coming back in the early morning, smelling blood and sweat, and mumbling about Order business. But now it was different, he was out more often than not, he didn't even come back to sleep. She hardly saw him. She just knew he was still alive because in the end of her working days she found dirty dishes and clothes, like the man didn't know any cleaning spell, honestly! He was infuriating.

The worst part wasn't his absences or their non existent sex life, but more his lack of interest in her. When they had the chance to be together, they didn't speak any more but at the Order of the Phoenix's meetings, and even then it was in such a tone that various people had asked her if they were separated or what.

Sighing, Ginny reluctantly got up and went to the kitchen. She knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without a cup of tea with a lump of honey. Settling the kettle on the fire she checked the clock wall. 6 a.m. No point in going to bed for an hour at most. Her assignment's owl was due around 7. She didn't know what she was going to do. She was banned from Death Eaters' tracking since she kind of lost control when she caught one of her fellow Gryffindor with the 'so glorious' white mask. Luckily the commission had been lenient and only gave her a warning and repositioned her. No more fights, just meaning-less missions, like the surveillance of Buckingham Palace… She hopped she wasn't going to be on guard duty at the zoo later that day. The auction was bound to bring some nasty pieces of the Wizarding world: vampires, goblins, hags, you name it, an auction will have it.

Unfortunately her hopes were crushed when she received her assignment. _It's going to be a looong day,_ she thought. She had no idea how right she was.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

"COME ON! WAKE UP!"

It was the only warning Harry had before he felt a sharp pain in his left calf and freezing cold water spilt on his head.

With a yelp, he sat bold right and bellowed "HEY! That's cold! What was that for?"

He was met with Griphook's amused face and D'Argo's muzzle still holding a bit of his pajamas. Both were seated and looking at him. Glancing at the window Harry added between his gritted teeth "Bloody hell! It's still night! What were you thinking?"

"What was that for?" Griphook replied, perfectly calm. "What was I thinking! Harry, I've been trying to wake you up for forty minutes! You've been sleeping for _two_ days! For all I care, you can go back to it for the next century but I won't be the one held responsible for missing the Zoo Auction nor for being late. So pick your choice: big nap or auction?"

With that, the goblin got up and left the room. Harry heard him mutter "And _Mister_ wants to be there an hour in advance, well he'd better start moving his lazy ass." As if it was an afterthought, Griphook added being his shoulder "Portkey leaves in fifteen minutes and your dog hasn't eaten yet."

Harry gave a glare at D'Argo just in time to see the dog bringing him his bowl. With a sight he got up, meeting the cold of his room, and went to kitchen.

Fourteen minutes later Harry was waiting with Griphook and D'Argo for the Portkey activation. At the time he was swearing against his long hair and trying to tie it the way he wanted.

"Why don't you cut it and be done with it like with your beard?" Griphook asked with bewilderment, "I mean it's not like you enjoy it or used to wear it that way, so what?"

"Griphook, I'm dead." Harry answered matter-of-factly as if it answered the question.

"Really? You look in good health to me. I hope my corpse will be like yours when I'll go meet my ancestors."

"No need to sneer and be ironical with me!" Harry snapped. In a rush he continued "We are going into London. There I'm supposed to have died and my scar is a _dead_ give away. A wizard with a hood up is suspicious, don't even get me started on obscuring charms…"

"…whereas a long lock of hair falling in front on the face is not uncommon…" Harry calmly finished.

"Oh… But do you have to keep them at hip length?"

The answer was lost to Griphook as the Portkey activated and dropped them like stone in Gringotts' transportation room.

They were greeted by a rather ugly goblin sneering at them (then again Harry's criteria on goblin's beauty might not have been the most objective, especially as he was, with one knee on the floor, trying to keep his balance…)

"Ah! The return of Griphook the gambler… In company of a human, no less… Probably a penniless Muggleborn for no-one would spend time with a disgraced banker like you if it wasn't a necessity… Move out of the way you two! I'm supposed to escort prominent members of both the goblin and Wizarding society and they are due to arrive any time."

"Hey! Didn't your father teach you good manners!" Harry said a bit loud to the rude goblin as he got up. But Griphook took matters in his hand.

"If you would let me handle this, Sir"

"Sir? Griphook since when do you call…"

"This is my world Sir. I'll deal with it"

Harry just arched an eyebrow and gave a small nod. "Very well."

Griphook faced his colleague and barred his teeth as he flashed a brooch. "I'm in vacation. Therefore I don't feel the need to wear it all the time."

The goblin lost all composure when he saw the little piece of jewelry and paled (well at least Harry thought so, but it's difficult to know with goblins).

"Oh yes…" Griphook continued, purring with sadistic pleasure. "I'm certainly a gambler. I took a shot ten years ago and guess what? It paid off. Meaning my dear Cognish that compared to me you are nothing more than a very low employee. The kind I eat at breakfast I might ad. So… If you want to retain your job you'd better give us the portkey and tickets to the auction before I loose my nerves. Understood _ήίηίση_?"**(1)**

The goblin bowed very low (his nose nearly touched the floor), and handed three tickets. "Certainly, Sir."

Griphook nodded and pocket two of them. He turned to Harry and held the tird piece of paper which whisked them away once again, leaving a very shaken banker behind.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

They landed in a park outside the zoo. Harry picked himself up and let go of D'Argo. He looked around as he brushed some dust away. There were dozens of chairs in rows with a big stage in front. A young man was coming toward them.

"So…" Harry interrogated. "What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" Griphook answered innocently.

"I mean at the bank!"

"Oh that… Well you see this brooch?" Griphook asked while producing the small piece of jewelry. Upon Harry's nod he continued. "We wear them on our left sleeve when working. As you can see there are there stones on them. They define our rank. The Black Diamond is the highest, followed by the ruby, the emerald, the sapphire, and finally amethyst. I have a Black Diamond and two rubies since your 'return from death'. Before I had two amethysts and one empty place. In short, I'm the fifth in command of my division of Accounts Managing. The director of Gringotts has four Black Diamonds, and Cognish as a sapphire, an empty spot and an amethyst… He is well bellow me but was used being higher and abusing his power on me... Well not anymore. That what it was about: putting a bully back in his place the second I had the power to do it. And don't tell me I was mean or anything. Any other goblin would have him fired before he could blink!"

"I supposed that your influence is mellowing me…" Griphook finished with a grin and a wink.

"And the 'I might ad' thing? Come to think about it, I never heard you use this kind of expression at your father's."

Griphook smiled mysteriously. "It's just my own phrasing when I'm in banker mode. That way people know if I working or not: No might ad? I'm in break."

"Oh, Ok then."

Harry shook his head and returned a smile as he ensured a lock of his hair was falling on his face, obscuring his right eye and the scar above it. Meanwhile the young man from the zoo had reached them.

"Gringotts' party?" he inquired.

"Errr… I guess so…"

"Yes, we are." Griphook replied forcefully after hearing Harry's eloquent answer. "Did you receive the package?"

"Yes. It's waiting for you at your seats, just in front of the platform." The young man turned toward Harry and said "If I may ask sir, why are you with a goblin? It's not that…"

"Goblins are better company that the majority of wizard!" Harry snapped.

"Furthermore, my client expects to spend a great deal of money of required. I'm here as an assurance of his ability to honor the bids." Griphook added.

"Oh! That's not necessary. We have a high number of brand new Blood Pins and…"

"Ever heard of privacy, young man?" Harry asked with a bit of irritation.

The young man had the decency to blush as he lead them to two chairs with a big 'G' on them.

"The auction starts in an hour and fifteen minutes. I hope you'll enjoy it and will find something to your liking. Good day sir."

He bowed stiffly and left as Harry sat down and D'Argo lied down at his feet.

"What's the package?" Harry inquired.

"Oh just the regular bank draft but secured, my promotion papers and my new contract with Gringotts. I've got a few things to check with the goblin in attendance for the sell. Will you be ok by yourself?" Griphook asked.

"Go ahead. I brought reading." Harry answered brandishing a small book with a leather cover.

"On what?"

"Rituals." Harry answered while opening the first page.

* * *

..ooOoo..

_

* * *

This book is great. I would never have believed such things were feasible. Harry thought as he finished the part about rituals involving Velas' sacrifices and went on the one about goblins._

All of a sudden he felt a Silencing Ward battling with his proximity Charm. He let it settle down making sure it encompassed his arm, thus letting him hear the conversation as if he was included in the ward.

"Honestly, why are we here again?" asked a male's voice.

A deep growl answered him. "Merciful Vlad! You've been told a dozen of times Angulus! We're here to buy Rodolph's bat!"

"But why didn't he come to do it himself? I hate the taste of this anti-sun potion! It leaves a bad taste to the blood for two days after that…"

"Angulus… How old are you?"

"What does it have to do with… Fine! I'm forty-three and I've been turned nine years ago."

"How old is Rodolph?"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Estimate."

"I'd say around four or five hundreds. Why?"

"In this amount of time, do you really think he has always abided to Ministries regulations?"

"Of course not! But…"

"Did you?"

"Well yes. I've no been turned for even a decade, and you know goddam well that you'll be my watch dog for twenty more years!" Angulus snarled.

"Do you really think that it's very smart for a wanted man to come and buy back his pet when he his wanted by half of the Wizarding world?"

"Oh… Ok. But still it's not my fault if he was dumb enough to let his bat at Garlith' place when we were suspecting him of being on those renegades."

"First, Rodolph's decisions are not of your concern. Second his bat has a mental link with him and could tell him what was happening. And finally watch your words when you're talking about my brother. He might have betrayed but he was still my blood kind."

"Jeez, Tiran! Drop it. I don't care about blood and brothers. My problem is that Rodolph got outsmarted by mortals and now we have to pay for it. Literally and metaphorically. I don't know about you but I only have fifty wizard galleons."

"Same here."

"Well, what if someone wants to buy the bat and spends more on it?"

"We'll just have to compromise." A silence. "I mean, kill the person, reach an agreement or threaten his or her family. It's not complicated. We've done it hundreds of time. Now cancel the ward and listen, they are about to start."

After hearing this conversation, Harry quickly flipped his book to rituals with vampires' sacrifices and, after a couple minutes of perusing, gave an evil smile. Griphook who was just coming back asked "They are ready to begin. What are you smiling at?"

"You'll see…"

An old wizard came up the stage and cast Sonorus at his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first ever Zoo Auction!" Polite applauses. "We have a selection of the most beautiful animals one can ever hope to find! Muggles and Magicals beast. Kneazles and cats, owls and snakes, everything to satisfy even the pickiest customers!" Applauses. "Some of our animals even lived with the most notorious criminals or heroes of our nation!" Applauses. "Without further ado, I declare the Zoo Auction open!"

"We will start with Magical animals. The first one is a cross between a…"

Harry turned the sound off and settled in his chair. The listing had only one bat (number fifty-seven) and one snowy owl (number thirty-two). He wasn't interested in the rest and was ready to wait forever if the owl was Hedwig. He just fine tuned the plan that formed in his mind after hearing the discussion of the two vampires. He'd have to play his cards right but it was feasible and had good odds of success. Yes it was going to go very smoothly.

"And now, number thirty-two." Harry perked up. Oh yes, that was Hedwig alright. "A female Snowy owl, age seventeen. She was named Hedwig and was Harry Potter's, the Boy-Who-Lived, pet. Our specialists are unable to find what is wrong with it. We believe she had a Bond with her former master as her symptoms of… Errr… 'depression' started two weeks ago with his passing away. We hope someone will find in his or her heart to give her a decent end of life. The starting bid is at twenty galleons."

Hell broke. Dozens of voices screamed at once trying to get the Boy-Who-Lived's pet. Harry leaned over Griphook. "I don't give a damn about the bloody price. She's my owl, I want her."

Griphook nodded and got up directly to solicitor in charge of the sell.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

"…The starting bid is at twenty galleons."

Ginny gasped. Hedwig. Harry's owl. She had hoped to get her but only had sixty galleons with her. With an opening price as high she was sure to never be able to have the highest bid. She clenched her teeth. Who ever won the auction would have the hardest and most humiliating checking of the Wizarding world! She was never going to let such a wonderful owl in the hand of undeserving people!

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

"And the winner, for two thousand five hundred and thirty galleons is mister here!" the clerk announced pointing at Harry.

"I hope you really like this owl, because for this price it could be made of gold" Griphook whispered.

"Yes, I know, but she is mine and that is one of the things I will never compromise with. Number fifty-seven, same thing."

Griphook nodded and waited as Harry went back to his book.

_The advantage of using vampires blood in rituals has always been discussed in great length. They are clearly defined as Dark Creatures, but as such have very close link to nature. Therefore it makes sense to take their life when one wishes to increases natural parts of their body or their connection to natural things. Of course, no rituals has ever been tempted with a High master's blood, but Masters and Lesser have been used. Lesser vampires being nothing more than killing machines are not very suited for anything but the two first kin of rituals proposed here. In any case, the blood of Master is strongly recommended. Here is a list of the benefits one can receive by the accomplishment of one of the following rituals._

_Increase in Speed._

_Increase in Strength._

_Increase in Magical Awareness (Caution Read the appropriate safeties)_

_Increase in 'Nature' connection._

_Strengthening of bonds._

_Strengthening of Sun Tolerance._

_Lessening of Blood needs._

Harry was taken away of his reading by a shake on his shoulder. "Hey? Are you ready? The auction is over. We need to pass through the tests to get the pets and pay."

"So, did you get the bat?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Sure. Just one hundred and ten galleons." Griphook said ironically. "You have a flair for the most expensive animals."

"Yah well, there are worth it."

"If you say so. Now come one. They are two vampires behind you that are giving you the glare."

"I know." Harry turned with a wide smile of his face and looked at the two 'men'. "Angulus, Tiran! Funny seeing you there! What are you doing here? Oh, I know, Rodolph's order, right? You were to get his pet, no? Too bad, _I_ have it. Now, I don't have anyone you can threaten and you won't manage to kill me. So… If you want to make sure Rodolph gets his bat back, you'll wait nicely for me at the exit and we'll discuss the arrangement we are going to make in order to make sure you stay alive. Savvy?"

"Who are you? Do we know you?" Angulus asked barring his teeth. A second later he was howling and holding his left leg while D'Argo swallowed the chunk of meat he had just torn away from the creature who threatened his master.

"Like I said, it's in your best interest to wait for me at the exit to discuss arrangements. Don't worry; I just want something you have in abundance. It's just hard for me to find and easy for you. It's good business for all of us. See you soon chaps."

With that, Harry turned toward the counter. Unknowingly, he had reminded everyone who he was: the man in dark from Diagon Alley. The man who kills Death Eaters in five seconds, the man that can escape when nobody can, the man who manages to curb two vampires in the blink of on eye. The man they all wanted to be but were too scared to act to become like him. Ironically Harry wanted nothing more than to be an anonymous face in the crowd.

It was a revered silence full of awe, admiration and fear that followed Harry's billowing robes as he was ushered in a tent to pick up his purchases.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Harry checked the room he was in. There was a small table with two cages on it. The bat was sleeping but Hedwig was looking at him like if she was trying to decipher if she knew him or not.

On the left there was another table with three empty chairs on one side and one on the other, occupied by non other than Ginny Weasley. Harry took a sharp intake of breath. Griphook nudge him in the ribs. "I've heard she specifically asked to do the interrogation of the one who bought this owl. I took the liberty of asking a solicitor to stand for us" He whisper in Harry's hear (well… toward his hear anyway).

Harry nodded and took a seat. Ginny smirked; she had understood the intake of breath was due to the man recognizing her but she believed he knew the 'Red Fury' – a nickname she got with her less-than-legal actions toward Death Eaters. She couldn't conceive of him not being afraid of her.

She extended a Blood Pin toward Harry and snarled "Pick your finger". He just starred at her for a full minute before slowly withdrawing his own pin and presenting to her. With an annoyed look, she glared at him and raised her wand at it, murmuring "Identificarem". One of the runes turned purple and blew some smoke which wrote 'Gringotts' Blacksmith: Klag - In circulation for: 9 days 21 hours' and created the bank's seal bellow. Satisfied she presented it to Harry who pressed his finger on the needle.

"Do you have the mean to pay for these animals?"

"Of course not, that's why I came with a rogue goblin: to unsettle you and pretend I do" Harry answered with irritation. The Blood Pin flashed red three times.

Ginny nodded and made a note on the piece of parchment in front of her. "You'd do well to avoid this kind of answers in the future. I'm not there to hear cheeky wizards have fun at me. Are you wanted by any Ministry, magical or not?"

"Of course! Don't you know? I'm a mass-murderer." The Blood Pin flashed red twice.

"I thought I was clear the first time. Shut up and answer the bloody question with honesty or you'll end up in a cell faster than you can say-"

"Hedwig" Harry answered, interrupting her. It shut her up.

"As I can see _'Red Fury'_ you are molesting a customer once again." A voice said. It was the solicitor, who had just entered the tent. "You really are Moody's Heiress. You only miss the eye. No, my client isn't a Death Eater. There are a lot of people between Order of the Phoenix members and You-Know-Who followers."

"Don't make the mistake of going all Fury again on my client. I'll wipe your ass if you do." The solicitor threatened; or promised, the answer would never be known as Ginny withdrew her wand and pointed at the solicitor. She was ready to curse him when she lost all sensation in her right arm. She looked at it. Her wand was on the floor. He arm hang on the side, like a big lump of flesh and she felt herself loose her balance. She stared at Harry.

"If looks could kill, I'll be like your friend" he snarled. "You want to get me in jail to stop me from buying this owl. Why? Because he was your friend's? Bullshit! He wasn't! After all when you think you once loved him you feel dirty, don't you?"

Tears started to fall from Ginny's eyes. "You might be the _'Red Fury'_ but remember that the 'Green Fury' might hit you. And when he does…"

"He's dead!"

"Yeah well that's unfortunate; but remember that _The Quibbler_ is sometimes right. Anyhow, I answered the questions from the rooster, stopped you from attacking an upstanding citizen, gave you something to think about, and gave you the ability to feel a bit of the _Monster's_ life by 'melting' your arm and forcing you to have thirty-three bones re-grown. Enjoy your night, _Skele-Gro_ is a nightmare. Bye then"

Without a second glance, Harry picked up the cages and went to the goblin collecting the payments.

"Did you really have to be that violent toward her?" Griphook asked him.

"You know, one of the perks of being a Legilimen is that you know all you want to. The down side is that if you don't control yourself perfectly – something that I don't do - sometimes you learn things you would rather not." Harry replied slowly. "Ginny- Ms. Weasley didn't care that I bought the owl. She only acted on the delusion that she was my widow or something like that."

"Well, I was there at your Will's reading. You said you forgave them…"

"I did. But that was before ten years of Azkaban. Before I died. Now she and the others do not know me. I have the right to regain my _own_ owl. And she doesn't have the right to stop someone she doesn't know to get his property back!

"Does it make sense to you?" Harry asked as Griphook filled the forms for the withdrawal.

"I guess so, but you didn't have to be that aggressive, did you?"

"No, you're right. But I was pissed off. Can't blame a man for being pissed, right?"

"Right." Griphook replied as Harry and him exited the tent and came face to face with the two vampires.

"So? What do you want with us?" snarled one of them. _Probably Angulus_ Harry mused. _Too jumpy._

"I'm thirsty. I think we should go to a bar. What about The Hog's Head in Hogsmead? It has private booths and you wouldn't stand out too much with the regular crowd" Harry replied. He picked D'Argo in one arm, secured the cages in the other and Apparated.

Entering the pub, he was shocked to see it totally full. He made his way to the counter and asked the bartender "What's going on?"

"The wizard in dark from Diagon Alley just bit the shit out of the 'Red Fury'! It is said that he cut her arm or something!"

"What? But it happened a minute ago. How do you know about that? And it was a Bone Melting Hex, not a Cutting one."

"Ever heard of Apparition lad? And how do you know it was a Bone Melt- Merlin! You did it!"

"Shhh. Keep it quiet. I just want a private booth… Make it a private room with the amount of customers you have, and two goblets filled of blood, one drink of whatever you give to goblins, and a bottle of FireWiskey with one _clean_ glass. Can you make it?"

"Sure thing sir. The room on the right of the entrance. The drinks are coming" The man answered as he gave Harry a tiny rusty key.

Ten minutes later the deal was done. Harry surrendered the bat after making sure it would be confined in its unbreakable cage thanks to several well conceived runes. He would meet Rodolph himself two weeks later in a pub in Knockturn Alley were they would trade information (namely what Harry wanted and the opening rune). Consequently it was a very happy Harry who bought a hen (live one of course) at the market before leaving.

"Hum… Harry?" Griphook asked a bit put out by the purchase.

"Yes?"

"Why did you buy a hen? I mean, I could understand a rooster if you wanted to get up with the sun, but a hen?"

Harry smiled as he waved the small book he had been reading during the auction (well at least, he tried to wave it as he held D'Argo, Hedwig's and the hen's cage in one arm and reached for the portkey with the other). "That, my friend, is for me to know and for you to find."

"Whatever."

As they both disappeared, the rumor was spreading. The wizard in dark was seen. He was in company of goblins and vampires, against the Ministry and You-Know Who. He was the figure-head of those who didn't wish to take side, but most importantly he was slowly starting to become the hope of a world on the brink of destruction. A world menaced by blood purists on one side or fanatics of 'Light' on the other.

* * *

Once back on goblin territory, Harry didn't waste any time. He quickly dropped D'Argo and the hen on the floor and went in the small garden (privilege of a mated goblin). He settled Hedwig's cage on the ground and started drawing runes with his wand. When Griphook asked him what he was doing he vaguely indicated his book on rituals and said 'Page 32".

Griphook read it while Harry kept on waving his wand.

_Some rituals aren't designed to gain new properties like strength or magical ability. The following one is a prime example of that. It was designed for victims of very dark curses whose aim was to destroy the mind. In the rare case where the wizard or witch survived and was coherent enough to remember what happened, they often noticed that the bonds they forged during their life were severed. Only the most primitive ones (like Familiar Bonds or Children Wards) were affected. The strongest (like the rare Love Bond or Debts) can't be affected by anything but death. This ritual's purpose is to re-establish those weakest links. The sacrifice doesn't need to be important, in fact in the majority of the cases in was discovered that birds or poultry like guinea-fowl, hen or chicken, are the best subjects as their mind is too primitive to 'think' in opposition to the majority of the animals affected by the Familiar Bond._

_The benefit of this ritual is of course the return of the bonds but also the fact that they are no draw backs; if not bond was severed then nothing happen, it's as simple as that._

_In order to achieve this ritual, one must…_

Griphook raised his head when he heard the hen's shrieks. It didn't deter Harry who gutted it in swift movement. The second a drop of blood touched the floor a golden thread extended from Harry's brow. Another exited Hedwig beak. Both collided and turned red as the sound of a thunder was heard. Then the thread disappeared and everything was back to normal.

Harry crept to Hedwig's cage and opened it. The owl gently nipped his fingers and settled on his shoulder as if it was only yesterday they had seen each other for the last time.

Harry turned toward Griphook with a smile. The goblin was expecting a comment in the like of 'It's great' or 'I'm whole again', all he had was "I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap. Don't bother to wake me before dinner."

The (young) wizard and his owl went onto the terrace and Harry settled himself in a couch, the same as a couple days before. Closing his eyes he remembered the Sword Knowledge Course._ I just don't fancy being Cruciated on command. Bah. Let's be done with it._ Sure enough, once he had cleared his mind, Harry found himself in the 'departure' room, a trunk in front of him, ready for another excruciating lesson. As sure as midnight struck twelve, pain cursed his body the second the 'threads of knowledge' connected to his forehead.

Back into the stone room, his classroom, he was taught by an old man in amour. He was shown how to select metals, how to combine them, how to imbue magic while forging, how to shape and create all kind of swords, daggers and the like. In frenzy he learned about the different kind of pommels, the benefits and draw backs, which to select according to the blade, etc.

It was during a lecture on the variations of heat that two things occurred. Truth be told, Harry was bored: he didn't plan in becoming a blacksmith, maybe craft his own sword, but definitively not spend the rest of his life hitting an anvil. It is then without surprise that Harry felt the need to do something else. As he 'was' _in_ his mind it was easy, he just imagined a pack of Lucky Strike and a silver Zippo in front of him. When they appeared he took a cigarette and lit it. Secondly, the teacher stopped speaking instantly.

"What are you doing?" he interrogated.

"I'm having a smoke." Harry answered (like the cigarette on his lips wasn't an indication anyway).

"Have you ever smoked before?" the old man in armor pried.

"No. So?"

"And yet you felt the need to smoke?"

"Yes" Harry replied a bit puzzled. "So what? And how come we are discussing, I thought you were just a memory."

"I am a memory but I regain knowledge and behavior of my former self to be able to teach you correctly before going into the After-Life whatever it is." His teacher said. "I remember that you took _Battle Knowledge_ classes as well as _Occlumency_. Am I right in claiming that you already went through the first but not the second?"

"Err… No. I already did both of them. As a matter of fact, I even started with Occlumency. Why?"

The old man started to pace up and down in the classroom, his armor make strange sounds at each movement. Harry heard him mutter things like "I doesn't make any sense", "Occlumency should protect him", "Where were we wrong?"

"Hum… Excuse me but what is the problem?"

The teacher stopped his pacing and starred at Harry. "The problem young man is that the conscience and behavior of those whose life you experienced in _Battle Knowledge_ are leaking out in your psyche, and I don't know why. For the moment it's only those who are close to you in behavior, ideals, experience and race, but soon it will be all of them. Right now you have the need to smoke and the desire to lit your cigarettes with a silver Zippo, a typical trait of Ziggarnoff a Russian wizard who was a master at Battle Curses and fought against Grindelwald in the 1940s before dying in a car crash because he didn't know how to Apparate. But soon it will be others. Some who have opposite behaviors. Don't you get it?"

Harry slowly turned his head. "Hmm… Errr… Well… No."

The old man through his hand in the air. "Think about it! You have the memories of vampires. For the most part they refuse to go out in the daylight. What will you do when it goes in conflict with the behavior of a man who is scared of them and never set a foot out of his home after sunset? Or when you'll be hungry and will want to have blood from the vampires, food from the wizards, raw meat from the werewolves and vegetables from the Elves? You'll be unable to live your life! Now think! Did you do something special since your first class on Occlumency?"

"Well I went to an Auction…"

"Something interesting."

"I cursed my ex-girlfriend and melted all the bones in her arm."

"Something else?"

"I did a ritual to re-establish my bond with my owl, but other than that…"

"Other than that!" the old man howled in a fury. "You idiot dwarf! You allowed a ritual to open your mind to other magical signatures similar to yours! And all of these memories were inside you! You mind is trying to assimilate them instead of flushing them away! Idiot! Moron!"

Harry's ears and cheeks were red with embarrassment at first then irritation (let's face it: nobody likes to be called a moron or an idiot.)

"Ok! Ok! I got the picture! I've been stupid. So now what do we do?"

"Right you are about being stupid" the old man snarled. "Well since you are an occlumen already you just have to maintain a constant high alert wall in your mind."

"But I can't do it for more than twenty minutes!"

"It's sufficient enough! Do it!"

When Harry nodded the old warrior resumed his rant "I'll use the little bit of magic strength I have left to accelerate the process and clean your mind. The problem for you will be the pain and the fact that you'll have to work on your own on the nine dances of the wands. Anyway you would have had to do it your own as your body isn't capable of executing these actions yet."

"What do you mean?"

"You really are a worthless brat! Did you think you were a god or something? You have knowledge, but that's it! If you think you are good enough that way, think again! You know Wards, but did you practice setting them up and down to be fast and flawless? Did you try to Slide in earnest once the self induced trance was over? Did you practice making potions to enable your body to be conditioned to react to the odors and sounds? Did you really think that you'd wake up, able to blast ten Hit Wizards cornering you? Insolent whelp! You have to work your body, hone your skills and get new ones!"

"You know what? I'm so pissed of with your attitude that I won't even dull the pain. Get ready greenhorn 'cause it's gonna be a shity ride for ya!"

When the pain coursed Harry's body, the last thing he thought before fainting was that he's choose the Cruciatus any time.

**

* * *

(1) _ήίηίση_ - Minion**

* * *

**_I'm sorry I've been so late to update. My computer crashed down and the guys took bloody long to fix it._**

**_This is chapter 7, I had already started and I finished the fastest I could to upload. I doesn't go as fast (just a day) as I wanted to don't worry it will pick up soon._**

**_Question to dictate the following chapters:_**

**_With which specy Harry shouldstricke an alliance?_**

**_A) Centaures_**

**_B) Vampires_**

**_C) Merpeople_**

**_D) An unknow breed I'll have to imagine totally_**

**_E) Something else: ..._**

**_Don't worry I won't EVER drop the story before its Complete (might take 25 to 30 more chapters for that, but we'll get through)._**


	8. Meetings

Disclimer: Don't smoke, it's bad for your health.

* * *

Chapter 8: Meetings

Griphook was enjoying the calm of early morning. He had always been an early riser, first during his youth to see his brothers leave, then at the time of his service (10 years of uniform, weapon training and discipline), and finally during his nearly twenty years of work at Gringotts. It wasn't good to be late when you're in red on the black-list. Even on his vacation he couldn't sleep late anymore, it was too much integrated into him.

Taking a sip of his Bendog juice, he casually walked toward the small garden at the back of his house. The sun was rising and he had half a mind to go and enjoy the view. Kagnass knew he didn't have the opportunity watch the sun for a very long time. He was already imagining himself seated in an armchair when swearing sounds stopped all his hopes of a calm morning.

Sighing he looked through the window. Sure enough Harry was outside, the garden lit by the light of eight torches. He was there with his dog and owl. D'Argo had never left the man's side so it wasn't surprising to find him there but the owl was another case altogether. Harry had had to buy her back after more than ten years apart. He had even done a ritual to re-establish their broken Familiar Bond. Since then, she refused to leave his side except for letters and even then, she was the fastest owl ever.

Griphook remembered very well Harry's slumber, and more vividly, the screams after the ritual. Kagnass! He thought there were Banshees in the neighborhood. The young wizard had stayed catatonic for three days.

…And then he had woken up, like if nothing had happened. He refused to say what occurred but, from that moment he spent nearly all his waking time very nervous, very angry, and constantly training.

The whole goblin community was alarmed. An angry wizard was learning every curses, hexes, and jinxes possible on their land? Learning to perform them silently and/or without movements? A lot of them didn't like that very much. Furthermore they had seen Harry training with a wooden stick like it was a sword and, truth be told, he wield it like a master. One that Koran, the goblin Sword Master, would be hard pressed to beat in a fair match.

Taking a deep breath Griphook exited the house. He had a wonderful news to tell but wasn't sure of the reception he would have.

"Harry?"

The wizard didn't even answer. Griphook advanced toward him but his way was blocked by D'Argo who pushed him against a wall. He glared at the dog then at Harry, but it was no use. His eyes were banded, sweat was falling from his brow. His goblin made shirt was soaked.

In his right hand he held his wand and, in the left, the heavy stick he used as a sword. Trance-like, and with out a sound, he started moving. With heavy pushes he slashed, kicked, and killed imaginary opponents with his sword while making the wand movements (but not the actual curses, Kagnass be blessed!) for dozens of painful, maiming, and killing Curses. He contortioned his body in abnormal ways, most that shouldn't have be possible without magic.

He then tried a back flip, but landed painfully on his face, the dirt staining his face, shirt, and pants. All in all it was a sight Griphook found very amusing and he found himself unable to stop the full blowing laughter that escaped from his mouth.

Harry got up and tore the bandage away, revealing angry eyes searching the source of the offending noise.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!"

"He he he, you've got to admit that from my point of view it is…" Griphook replied difficultly containing his laugh.

Harry grunted as he made his way to a small table were a pitcher of water and a towel were laid.

"What was that?" Griphook inquired.

"What?"

"I dunno, this kind of fake fighting or something." The goblin shrugged.

"Oh, that? That was the Dance of the Wands number three." Harry answered inattentively as he was wiping his face.

"The Dance of the Wands? What is it?"

"A series of movements designed to avoid a majority of curses and inflict maximum damage in a fight against multiple opponents." Harry explained, as if he were a teacher.

"Can you teach me?" asked Griphook, eagerness in his voice.

"What for?"

"Well…" Griphook nervously gave a kick in a small stone. "You know that the goblin society is a warrior society. Even though we are at peace with the Wizarding world, it might not last forever and-"

"Not a chance, mate. I can understand your concern but that would be like giving a nuclear weapon to a country when the others are still learning to use fire." Harry answered firmly. "I might not be a fanatical supporter of the Ministry at the moment, but I don't think that it would be fair to innocent people."

"But it would just be in case… Like a preventive preparation." Griphook argued weakly.

"Oh, I know that. Until a particularly cocky goblin decides that he is better than his peers and can kick some pureblood asses because they were sneering at him.

Then what? Then there would be a faction of wizards who'll want to exterminate the nasty goblins. Another faction will be willing to wipe out the arrogant wizards. It would create a war that would eventually won by the goblins because they'll be able to attack hand to hand. Eventually the wizards would find something to protect themselves like Proximity and Repulsion Wards coupled together and always active.

Then what?"

Griphook didn't reply. He knew that Harry was right. It was just that…

"I'll tell you what:" Harry continued. "Then one of my major assets to survive this bloody war will be lost. It might take me years to kick Voldemort's scaly ass. I cannot afford to loose this advantage for a _might be_ reason. Furthermore, it would probably hasten another war.

No, really Griphook, I wish I could. You're a friend and the person I would most likely teach it, but I just can't. I'm sorry, the answer is final." Harry finished sincerely.

Griphook nodded. "I understand Harry. It's just that… Well, I've had a very good new yesterday and I had hoped that your teaching would heighten it."

"What is it?" Harry asked his curiosity pricked up. _Damn Gryffindor curiosity_ he mused.

Griphook put his hand inside his jacket, "You know of our society's stratification and culture, right?" Harry nodded.

"Well I received this letter yesterday." The goblin produced a folded envelop. "It was delivered by a soldier. As you know there are three person allowed to used military men to deliver notices. The General," Here Griphook made the gesture of pulling out a sword and holding it high in the air. "Gorian the Hundel and the Matriarch." Griphook bowed.

"And who sent it?"

"Gorian, as Chief Sorcerer Goblin he is the one forwarding any Gali letter. This one was signed by two Fifth Rank Galif." Griphook explained then sighed.

Harry read the letter and exclaimed "That's great! You're going to be mated!", but in front of his friend's face he asked "No?... I mean… It's what you wanted right?"

"Yes, yes. It's just that my sister is a Fifth Rank herself and if I were to mate in this rank she would be lowered."

"Why?" Harry wondered.

"Well because I gained money, power and prestige in Gringotts. If I were to mate a Fifth rank, it would be because of my accomplishments, not my birth. She hasn't done anything yet, therefore she'd be lowered to give my fulfillments a weight. And I don't want that." Griphook explained sadly.

"So basically you are telling me that you've increased your personal value in the eyes of the Galif and therefore would lower your sister's in comparison, right?" Harry asked.

Griphook nodded and said a weak "Yep".

"And what does your father says?"

"That it's not my fault if my fifty-six-years-old-sister didn't manage to do anything for herself."

"He's right you know. Furthermore, you haven't seen her more than twice a year for the first thirty years of your life. You haven't seen her since, so maybe she did something for herself and increased her status."

Griphook gave a bitter laugh. "I don't think so. It's even the opposite. She was a Fourth Rank until she tried something for _herself._" He spat the last word as if it was an insult. "It's only the fact that my father mated a Fourth Rank that year that she didn't get degraded to more than Fifth. Even though, I checked yesterday afternoon. She's still a Fifth Rank, but at the first step out of the line she's a Sixth."

Harry nodded. "I understand your concern, but it's not your fault if she becomes a Sixth Rank."

"Harry! My birth alone gave me the right to a Fifteenth Rank's mate! She didn't do anything and even embarrassed herself a couple of times! She'd be retrograded to Sixteenth Rank!" Griphok cried alarmed. "If not Seventeenth" he added with a shiver.

Harry didn't ask. He knew that Seventeenth Rank Galif were considered improper for mating and were the worst of the goblin's society with the few men unable to fight (born crippled as those crippled in fights were honored as living gods).

"Listen mate. I understand that you being able to teach the Dance of the Wands would increase your value and enable you to go for a Fourth Rank, but I can't."

Griphook lowered his head at this statement. "But we might find something." Griphook perked up.

"Really?"

"Well, I've got my meeting with Rodolph, the Vampire Master today. As you know, these guys are impossible to meet, but well, I got lucky. Anyway, he'll give me some rights and some information. If you were to act with me on these, you'll be able to increase your status… again." Harry explained as he put a new shirt.

"What kind of action?" Griphook asked. Hope rose in his voice and dread filled his eyes (he was a family guy but knew Harry better than anyone on Earth and _that_ scared him shitless).

Harry shrugged and smiled sinisterly. "Nothing too extreme, just a bit of hunting." Harry walked back into the house, Hedwig perched on his arm, and D'Argo following him.

Watching his friend's retreating back, Griphook sighed. "That's what scares me."

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

_Dear Kisarra,_

_Yesterday morning I received a missive from two of your Rank mates._

_As you know it's a one time opportunity for me. Thus I'm thinking of accepting, but there is no way that a potential mating would degrade you to one of the lowest Ranks. I believe we should discuss it face to face._

_I have news that could solve our problem but I can't divulge it in a letter as Harry hasn't told me what it entails yet. Yes, him again! I really put all my eggs in the same basket, but he's a friend and we owe each other to much to leave the other when he's in need._

_Please answer with permission and a meeting date as soon as you possibly can._

_Your brother,_

_Griphook_

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

_Dear Griphook,_

_I was very pleased with your message. At first I was angry you didn't write me straight away, but I'm very glad now that, I understand, you tried to find a solution to this problem._

_I was very distressed, and I could not ask you to refuse such an honor. Some of my less-than-friendly acquaintances already pointed to me that my file would destine me to Fifteenth Rank at best and Seventeen at worst._

_I've been given a favor by the Matriarch: free time until your mating. Like hell it's a favor! I spend all my time gnawing at my nails! Anyway, you can come and visit me anytime you want. I included a permission slip and will be waiting for you._

_Your sister,_

_Fifth Rank Gali,_

_Kisarra_

_P.S. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep using this title._

Kisarra sealed the letter and brought it herself to the Chief Sorcerer Goblin. As usual Gorian was very friendly with her and they drank a Bendog juice before she returned to her room. She hardly had the time to change into more suitable clothes that she was notified of her brother's presence.

Griphook had changed since the last time she saw him. He was more discreet but also more noticeable because he was more in control and more powerful and he knew it. His eyes were reflecting his intelligence, his ability to take chances, and win against all odds. Something he had inherited from his father, a heredity trait in a sense that she didn't receive.

"Hello Griphook."

He bowed deeply, much more than her status required, and gave the greeting words reserved to the elite of the Galif.

"You don't have to flatter me, dear brother. We both know that I'll never reach one of these Ranks." She replied; flattered, and at the same time sadden by the reality of life.

"Maybe not from others, but to me you deserve such a greeting."

She laughed. "Always the charmer?"

"I try." Griphook replied with a smile.

"Walk with me brother."

Griphook nodded and followed her in the garden reserved for Galif. An infinity of flowers, a lot of them considered to be extinct, were starting to blossom. They were pleasing to the eye and gave them the sensation of being lost in a pool of colors.

"So, Griphook, tell me. What did Harry come up with this time?" Kisarra inquired.

"You don't like him." Griphook said. It wasn't a question, more like a realization he had gotten used to hearing.

"You're right, I don't like him. He has too much power over you. That man could ruin you if he wanted." She said in a harsh tone.

"I see, so you'd want me to separate myself from him?"

Kisarra didn't say anything, but she didn't need too. Both knew she wanted him to do exactly that.

"Too bad, 'Cause I won't do that. Whatever you want or for whatever silly reason you have he is a friend, my friend, and as such he has my support when he needs it and not when I want something in return." Griphook returned.

His tone was firm, not aggressive or harsh as his sister's. It was just another statement. A don't-meddle-in-things-that-are-not-your-concern notice. Kisarra understood and dropped the subject. However Griphook didn't; he even said something that could have be considered heresy. His biggest bet ever and against the worst odds in the world. Something that could of gottten him executed if he was wrong, and he said it in the middle of the Galif's garden!

"I think that if he keeps on his path and stays around, he'll make some much needed changes and might be mated too."

Lots of little screams punctuated his sentence, the statement was heard by half a dozen Galif

"Griphook! Are you crazy? That will ruin your chances of mating and probably get you killed!" Kisarra exclaimed tears in her eyes.

There she saw who he really was when he smirked and answered. "Probably, but they all know I'm a gambler. They won't do anything until Harry gets either killed, disgraced, or mated. Thus, they'll keep the flirting, but will drag out time in hope that this will be solved before the mating. Anyway, now they'll leave us alone in fear to hear any other choking news. Therefore I can tell you what Harry came up with to increase my status and, at the same time, secure yours."

She laughed at his smirk. "Go on, oh master of manipulations."

Griphook smiled and sat on a bench where she quickly joined him.

"As you know, Harry has been staying with us for a little than a month now." He started.

"Bit difficult not to know, he's all they" she indicated the Galif's living quarters. "ever talk about. The human here, the human there. I think I'm the only one to be aware he's Harry Potter and not some common boy found in a gutter."

"Could you please let me tell the story?" He interrupted, his hand on his heart in a fake hurt expression. She motioned him to do so.

"Right, two weeks ago we went to an auction at the zoo." In front of his sister's puzzled expression he explained. "All the familiars of arrested people and/or those whose assets have been seized were sent to the zoo for years. For so long actually that in the end they had trouble to keep them all and decided to sell some of them."

"Harry wanted to go there. Why I don't know, but he bought back his own owl, cost him a fortune but it's his owl. He wanted it, that's his choice. But he also bought a bat and antagonized a couple of vampires. Apparently they were in charge of buying their Master's pet back and he beat them at it. How he knew who they were, why they were there, and how much they could afford, I don't know either. But that's Harry for you."

"Anyway, the two vampires, Harry, and I had a drink. He gave back the bat but locked its cage. He said he wouldn't unlock it until he met the Master. Rodolph his named. He had a meeting yesterday and we went just after I sent you the letter. We took a portkey to Gringotts and went to Knockturn Alley…"

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Harry was swearing as he fastened his belt. "Why do I have to do that again?"

"Because people remember you. You killed a Death Eater, ruined their attack, kicked the 'Red Fury's' ass, and tamed two vampires in a minute thanks to D'Argo. People want to see you and it will keep us safe as nobody will try to get at you. You are associated to this belt, with its Gladius, dagger and throwing knife, so your wearing them." Griphook explained patiently.

"Right" Harry snarled. "Doesn't mean I like it and this Alley is bloody depressing!"

"That it is my friend, that it is." Griphook acknowledged. "So which bar is it?"

"A vampire bar." Harry grunted.

"No shit Merlin!" Griphook exclaimed. "But which one? The _Bloody Mary_?"

"Nope, and it's not a bar for vampires. With a title like that any blood sucker would get busted by the Aurors."

"The _Full moon_?"

"Werewolves' bar."

"_The Moonlight_?"

"Nope."

"Come on! What is it? And what is it with you today?" Griphook asked clearly exasperated.

"I need a smoke. And the bar is apparently Rodolph's new hobby." Harry answered in a gloomy voice. Then with a bright smile he said. "The _Sunshine_! What a fucking name is that for a vampires' bar anyway?"

Griphook nodded, agreeing with the statement.

"Hey mate?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Mmm?"

"Can you wait here while I pop up to a tobacconist?"

Griphook turned around and stared at the young wizard. "Here? You want me to wait here? In the middle of Knocturn Alley? Where there are no aurors? Where the dregs of Wizarding society act in all impunity? Are you mad or just daft? I wouldn't survive more than a minute!"

"Hey, calm down" Harry said as he put his hand on his friend's shoulders. "It was just an idea. I really need a smoke. I know there is a tobacconist just outside the Leaky Cauldron, next to the record shop. I wouldn't be long and I would leave D'Argo with you."

"And how are you going to pay smart ass?" Griphook snarled.

With a soft smile Harry brandished his wallet.

"I knew I should never have given you a two-way wallet" Griphook growled.

"Come on! It's brilliant! Galleons directly from my vault on one side and pounds the other. It's great. You were right to give me that." Harry argued.

"Yeah… And now you are going to leave me alone in a street where I'll probably get my throat cut in a second!" Griphook grumbled.

In a pleading voice, with puppy eyes Harry added "Please? I know I'm a bastard. I just need a smoke…Please?"

Reluctantly the goblin agreed. "Ok. But you leave your dog and the sword with me and you have three minutes. Not that you can have much more with your _meeting_… Just hurry."

Harry grinned, handed him his sword and disappeared. Leaving D'Argo behind who sat at Griphook's feet and looked around. _Shit this dog is too clever! He didn't have to tell him anything and his already guarding my butt._

Griphook's contemplations were fast ended by the sound he dreaded. The sound of human voices.

"Hey guys. Look what we have here." A first voice full of alcohol said. _Kagnass' balls! It's only eleven in the morning!_

"You're right. And look at that he has a tooth pick to defend himself!" A second added, his voice as impregnated than the first.

"Ummm guys? He also as a big and mean looking dog with him…" A third and more cautious one interjected.

"Never mind that" the second answered. "We kill the dog, steal the goblin's money, then kidnap him, and ask Gringotts for a ransom."

"You're right, that's a good plan" the first one agreed. "Let's do it."

The men approached Griphook. "Hello, hello, small being" One said in a sickening voice, as if he was talking to a moron or a kid.

Griphook sneered. "What do you want good-for-nothings?"

"Ah but that's not a way to speak to your betters little being." The man replied in the same condescending tone.

"Better? Don't make me laugh!" Griphook bit back with more bravado than he felt.

"That's it! I'm done here" The first man yelled as he unsheathed his wand. The two others followed suite.

The first one pointed his wand at D'Argo growling muzzle and yelled "_Avada_ _Kedavra_ – _Stupefy_ – _Diffindo_ – _Petrificus_ _Totalus_ - _Incarcerous_."

The dog dodged, the first curse, let the second impact but didn't even stubble as he jumped out of reach of the cutting curse to be caught unaware by the last curse, binding him like a sausage.

The three men grinned as they trailed their wands on Griphook who was already in fighting stance, the sword in front of him, ready to pounce like a feline and chop the head of the closest wizard.

A fourth voice broke the silence. "You attacked my dog."

Griphook's attackers turned around and were met the sight of Harry, hood up, lighting a cigarette with a silver Zippo. The flam was reflected in his vivid green eyes, an Obscuring Charm hiding his other features.

"What did you say?" the first one snarled.

"I said: 'You attacked my dog'. Now I'll have to bring him to be checked by a Healer. It will cost me money. I want that money."

"Go away mudblood. We aren't going to give you anything but a long and painful death if you don't leave now." The same man answered with a sneer, revealing yellow teeth.

His two friends nodded vigorously, supporting their 'leader'. But they stopped soon as all of sudden Harry had his wand in hand and muttered "_Acer_".

Three metal arrows exited the tip of his wand at lighting speed and logged themselves in the first man's eyes and mouth, pinning him to the sign of a shop. Another _Acer_ and both remaining wizards were holding only half of their wands.

"So? Where were we? Ah yes! Who's going to pay for my dog's visit to the Healer?"

Both men drop their wands (well, what they still held from them anyway) and threw him their gold bags. Harry quickly checked them.

"Thirty-five galleons? That's very nice of you to insure a good treatment to my familiar and a good drink to my friend you just bothered."

Harry smiled at the two wizards (more like under-muggles as they don't have wands…). "Now run along" he threatened as he launched half a dozen fire balls at them. Both men disappeared in a loud pop without asking their rest.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO LEAVE ME! BUT DID YOU LISTEN? NOOO, _MISTER_ HAD TO GO AND LEAVE ME HERE! YOU REALLY SUCK!" Griphook nicely said…

"Come on mate. It's past, no harm done" Harry said gently.

"OH YES? AND WHAT IF YOU HADN'T ARRIVED IN TIME?"

"Then D'Argo would have been on a diet for the next week." Harry calmly explained, still smoking his cigarette.

"IS THAT SO? AND TELL ME NOW, HOW CAN HE ACCOMPLISH THAT BINDED LIKE A SAUSAGE?"

"Like that: D'Argo, we're leaving."

In front of Griphook's astonished eyes, D'Argo got up and the ropes disappeared.

"How did he do that?" He asked while running to catch on Harry.

"He's part griffin and phoenix, mate. He only got touched because I asked him to let himself be bounded." Harry said, throwing his filter away. After thinking he added "As you know, the newspapers have made the correlation between the wizard in Diagon Alley, the one at the zoo Auction and the one in the Hog's Head, but nobody saw me really fight. Those were easy to scare and I was in a good position. I disabled their Proximity Ward without a sweat, placed a strong Notice-Me-Not Charm on my right hand, and Voilà! Now the rumor will spread and we'll be left in peace. At least in this part of the shopping center… I believe that in Diagon Alley we will have an Auror in every bush trying to get us for something. But hey! You can't have both. I need to survive and the Aurors aren't the one dangerous right now."

Griphook was ready to answer but Harry abruptly stopped. "_Sunshine_. We're here. Damn! One minute late!"

Harry pushed the door and entered. Griphook, D'Argo, Hedwig still on her wizard's shoulder and said wizard found themselves in a booth with a second door that refused to open as long as the first wasn't totally closed. Finally they entered the bar. It was lit with torches darkening the walls. The floor was of dirty flooring, full of alcohol and spits stains. The tables in crude wood where able to hold ten people and had handcuffs on them. _Probably to tie up the victims_ Harry figured.

Griphook and Harry stepped in the bar. The few patrons stopped talking and looked at them with loathing. They reached the counter easily enough, with a dozen of trips and some threatening sounds, but D'Argo's growl and Harry's Melting Bone Hexes convinced the vampires that these beings weren't preys but predators too. And you don't fight a predator unless you know for sure you can kill him fast and sure.

"What d'ya want?" the bartender growled.

"The boss" Harry answered.

The bartender gave him a sneer and opened his mouth. Before he could even utter a sound, Harry caught his head and crashed it into the counter.

"He's here and he's waiting for me. So you'd better shut up and tell him I've got the rune, unless you want to win a tanning session." Harry threatened.

To prove his point he pointed his wand at the wall. A very small bean shot out of its tip and pierced the wood without a sound. A ray of sun entered the place.

"Hurry up now. I think I found a game I like. The longer you take the worst it will be for you" Harry added, releasing the bartender and making another hole in the wood.

The vampire ran up the stairs at the corner of his bar as Harry kept on making small holes everywhere from his position at the counter. He turned toward Griphook who was shaking his head.

"The guy will hate me and his job at the end of the day… He will be bathing in sunlight!"

"He already hates you mate." Griphook answered with a sigh. _How can an intimidating, powerful, smoking wizard be only seventeen in his head? That's beyond me._

A soft but powerful voice vibrated in the silence that followed Harry's performance. "That's enough."

Harry turned around and saw a tall man. He had a white skin (not pale like most vampires, just white), long and smooth dark hair that reached his shoulders blades and dark blue eyes. A small smile was appearing at the corner of his red lips, uncovering the tip of a canine. Dressed in a black silk shirt with bluish reflections, his pants and boots made of a shining Chinese Fireball hide, the man went down the stairs and looked at Harry.

"I'm Rodolph as I'm sure you already know. I believe we have business to discuss."

Harry nodded.

"Even though I don't have anything against my _own_ bar, I believe we should go to a more private place, my office maybe?" Rodolph continued pleasantly.

"Your companions can stay here or join us. In any case they won't be bothered or harmed." The vampire punctuated his statement by lighting his eyes and surveying the crowd.

He didn't show it but Harry was in awe. He looked at Rodolph with a blank mask (not that it changed anything within his hood) and his Occlumency walls at the highest point he could keep them without exhausting himself. _How the hell does he light his eyes like that? I'll have to make him teach me._ "Very well. We are all coming. Please lead the way High Master Rodolph." He answered nicely. _No need to antagonize this guy._

..ooOoo..

"So, let me get this straight. You will only give the three runes, not _the_ rune as I thought, in exchange for teaching you how to do the eyes thing I did downstairs, the right to hunt and kill my subjects, that is to say every single vampire in London and suburbs, _and_ my indications on the location of three vampires wanted by our community not yours, preferably three Master, but not less that one Master and two Lessers. Am I correst?"

They were seated in the Vampire's office, drinking a butterbeer each, while the High Master was eyeing them suspiciously.

"Not exactly." Harry answered with the insolence of youth. "I want that trick, the locations and the right to hunt for both of us." Harry indicated Griphook and him.

"What indication do I have that you won't try to kill every single vampire in sight?" Rodolph asked, clearly amused by the wizard's nerves.

"None. Except that I only want three of them. And I didn't kill any of those downstairs something I could have easily done." Harry replied, taking a sip of his drink. He frowned "There is also the fact that you put a mild Truth Serum in our drinks, which would have forced me to tell you the truth if I wasn't an Occlumen. But then again, it wouldn't matter because my answer would be the same: no indication whatsoever."

Harry paused for a moment. "I do not have any intention to start a hunting business and run to the Ministry to get a team of vampire hunters. I will kill vampires if they get in my way, yes. I will leave those who mind their own business as long as I don't see them hunting or feeding. If I inadvertently cross the way of one of your friends and he doesn't abide to my rules, then yes, I'll kill him or her like any other vampire; but I don't have the will, nor the resources or energy to go after all the vampires, thus the information I asked."

Harry shut up after having spoken so calmly, and without a trace of emotion, something that scared Griphook but seemed to please Rodolph.

"And what if I decided to give you a fake authorization or wrong indications?" the vampire asked with a smirk.

Harry laughed quietly before replying. "Aaah, but High Master, I'm a Master of Runes. I will give you a rune for each secured information and location. If one of them happened to be fake, I might make a slight mistake in my rune, resetting the sequence or worst killing your pet. Besides, I know every single steps of the Vampire Right Process, even for human."

Harry and Rodolph stared at each other for a few minutes. To Griphook it looked like a glaring contest until he saw breads of sweat falling from their temples. Finally the vampire averted his eyes.

"You are quite the Occlumen. Congratulations." Rodolph said. "May I inquire how many centuries old you are? I know you're not human, I've been practicing for the last three hundred years and nobody younger than that can beat me."

"Oh I'm human alright. I'm not even thirty if you want to know; but we're not here to discuss my age, are we?" Harry answered coolly.

Rodolph's eyes widened when he herd Harry's age, and even though he was fast to hide his shock, both Harry and Griphook saw it.

"I'm not sure I can trust someone as young as you with such power, sir." The vampire finally said evenly.

"Take the offer Rodolph. It's a good deal. I could duplicate the number of runes until you wouldn't be able to stroke your pet ever again" Harry said in a cold voice that shocked everybody, including the guard in the ante-chamber listening to the discussion. "Unfortunately for you, 'ever' wouldn't be long."

The threat was clear and evident. Griphook swore inwardly, insulting Harry. _We are in a goddam vampire bar, with a bloody High Master and he can't find anything better to do than threaten the guy! He really has a death wish!_

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Kisarra gasped. "How did you get out of there alive?"

Griphook smiled and pulled out his left sleeve, revealing a blood-red rune representing a sun; inside of it, there was a flying bat holding an axe in one paw and a wand in the other.

"Oh my… Kagnass! Is that what I think it is?" Kisarra asked.

"And what do you think it is?" her brother replied.

"The… It's the… The Vampire Equality Rune?" she said in a whisper.

Griphook smiled and hid the mark. "Yes it is. Once we'll have gotten to the three masters Rodolph wants out of the picture, he will turn the inside of the sun dark, meaning we'll be able to make business with vampires without getting against the rules of any Vampire High Master."

Kisarra looked pensive for a moment then her eyes widened. "Vampires always refused to deal with Gringotts because there aren't any goblin they consider worthy enough to talk to."

Griphook nodded "and this is going to change very soon my dear sister, very soon indeed." He smirked. "When it will be done, I'll be either dead, something that can't happen with Harry by my side, or much more respected and wealthy than I currently am. Meaning I already refused to meet the Fifth Rank Galif, thus you are safe in your position."

Kisarra jumped and hugged her brother while screaming of joy. Suddenly she stopped and held him by the shoulders. "But what about your declaration earlier? You might end up decapitated!" she screamed, tears in her eyes.

Griphook smiled again and patted her on the back. "Do you really think I would be executed if I bring in the vampires' fortunes?"

She furiously wiped her tears. "You're right, but still, it wouldn't be very good for you. Be careful dear brother."

"I will" Griphook answered as he bowed in front of her and said the parting formulas. As she watched her brother's retreating back Kisarra good only pray that this 'new' Harry Potter was going to bring fortune to her family and not the downfall everybody predicted since his first step on goblin's soil.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Meanwhile Harry was bored. After a month out of Azkaban he still stayed restless if he wasn't doing anything. He had gone to see Klag the blacksmith and had readjusted his training gear, but now didn't have anything else to do. He decided to venture in a part of the goblin city he didn't know. He was kind of lost but knew that Hedwig and D'Argo would always find their way back.

He passed in front of the windows of a shop he didn't know. Granted he didn't need to, it was a funeral home. He wondered about its location and was ready to ask a passing goblin when he heard the sounds of fighting. No alarm had been sounded so Harry knew it wasn't an invasion and brawls were very rare, especially during the day, due to the Matriarch's harsh dealings with instigators.

He followed the sounds and soon found himself in front of a big building with a big tag "_Academy_". Griphook had spoken a couple of times about it, but for the life of it Harry couldn't place what had been said about it. _Is it where they learn how to work for Gringotts or is it the school for those who don't want to be bankers?_ He wondered. Shrugging Harry decided to enter the masonry. He was a bit surprised to see two guards, and he knew there weren't any Gali around. What clearly astonished him was that they didn't try to stop him at all, contrary to their custom when he had tried to get passed one.

Harry arrived in a big court-yard. Dozens of young goblins were practicing archery and magical accuracy against targets moved far away. Another group was training in sword fighting while another was running and handling spears twice their size.

Harry was staring at the sight when a voice spoke. "I see you finally discovered our training ground. You certainly took your time."

Harry looked at his right to see a very burly goblin. "The name is Jutran. I am the Military Instructor."

"Harry Potter"

"I know that. As I said, your early training has disturbed a lot of your neighbors. They appealed to the Matriarch. She must think highly of you or one of her personal stargazer must have found something."

"Probably the latter" Harry mumbled.

Jutran nodded and kept on going. "Anyway, I was supposed to come and see you tomorrow, but as you're here it's not necessary. You are… what did she say again? Ah yes… You are pleasantly asked if it wouldn't too much trouble to effectuate your training drills in here instead of Kilag's garden."

Harry stared at the goblin.

"Hey, I didn't write the text! One of the Matriarch's scribes did it! Anyway, I'm allowed to attack you if you refuse…" Jutran finished with a toothy smile as he fingered his sword's pommel.

Harry burst in a laugh. "Don't you worry" he said to the goblin who looked offended. "I was wondering how I could gain the authorization to practice in here."

"Oh" Jutran relaxed. "Well it's settled then. I'll see you tomorrow morning." The goblin returned to a group of cadets who were taking an unauthorized break.

Harry left as his stomach growled, praying that D'Argo knew the way back, he wasn't to queen on missing dinner. _Damn, I'm sounding like Ron _he thought fondly.

* * *

_**Hello everybody, I'd like to thanks **_**Berreta Pakin Mailman****_who has agreed to be my beta. I hope this will help those who thought my grammar and syntax sucked 5well then still suck, but now it's going to be hidden...)_**

**_Ok guys, for now the votes are definitively going for the vampires (followed closely by Centaures). Harry will make an alliance with them in the next chapters (note the s)._**

**_Next chapter Training and swords forging._**


	9. Dawrven Prophecy

**Disclaimer:** Annoying people by stealing their work and trying to present it as yours is called plagerism. It is bad for your health and bank account. Thus I'm not doing it...

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**Chapter 9:** Dwarven Prophecy

Remus Lupin softly blew in his hand to warm them. This stake out was taking forever. Once again he cursed Minerva McGonagall for this assignment. His very much pregnant girlfriend was soon going to give birth to their child and he was there at the brink of a mansion's wards. It wouldn't have been too much of an inconvenience had he been able to use magic but there wasn't any magical person in the neighborhood, that is except for him and a ward detected anybody not keyed in that used thing remotely magical (except for Invisibility cloaks, thanks Merlin!)

With a sight Remus raised his eyes toward the mansion. He was just between the Anti-Apparition ward and the identification one. Magic would give his presence away and he wasn't going to be replaced until four hours later… Silently Remus moved his feet to enable the flow of blood in his legs. He so hated to be there. The Charms on him stopped the vampire guards from smelling him, alas it worked both ways and he was olfactory blind. For someone who usually could smell visitors before they even reached his floor it was somewhat disturbing.

Remus eyed the gates ahead of him with dread. This wasn't some random mansion or the house of a Death Eater. He was at the entrance of the property of one of the most influential vampire in England. True, this one wasn't as powerful or as respect as London's master, Rodolph, but he had a good portion of the vampire's population behind him and could tilt the balance in favor of Voldemort if he were to act on the threats he had made toward the Vampire Council three months earlier. Remus' job was to watch and see if anything was in any way indicative of an alliance with the Dark Lord. If it was then a preemptive attack was better than meeting the vampire on a battlefield.

Remus contemplations were cut short when five figures exited the mansion running like if their life depended of it. Two of them were apparently unconscious and slung around the shoulder of the tallest figures. Remus barely had the time to blink that they were upon him. He could see that they weren't vampires as he had first thought but a dog, a goblin and a wizard if the man's wand was any indication. The dog, a big Rottweiler, knocked him down when it passed between his legs and got wrapped up in his invisibility cloak. The goblin stopped just long enough to take the item in his hand and the wizard didn't even slow down as he rammed the handle of a dagger on the top of his head. Remus fell unconscious without a pip.

* * *

Remus emerged from his forced sleep when a hand shook his shoulder forcefully. 

"Wake up Lupin!"

Instantly Remus was up and ready to fight, his wand in his hand the tip glowing and on the brink of releasing a curse. His eyes landed on the concerned gaze of Neville Longbottom.

"Sorry Neville. What's going- Ouch" Remus tried to apologize but a small shake of his head reminded him why he was sleeping in the first place.

"We've got to go!" Neville said urgently.

"Why?"

"Someone just used magic in the mansion. The guards are going to come around soon."

Remus didn't say anything and Apparated to Grimmauld Place Neville following him a second later.

Once there, Remus applied ice on the back of his skull and hissed at the sharp pain he felt.

"What happened?" the werewolf asked when Neville sat down.

"I don't really know. I arrived five minutes before my shift and saw you on the ground. I checked your heart bit and the surroundings. There wasn't anything. Then I saw something moving through the windows in the mansion and apparently there were wizards around with the number of curses…"

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

"You are sure about this?" Griphook flashed with his hand. 

"Slowly" Harry replied in the same fashion.

"Are. You. Sure. About. This?"

"Yes. Don't worry I practiced." Harry returned somewhat clumsily. "Now stay quiet."

The goblin frowned but didn't say anything. The Charms on his person to stop heat, smell, and magical detections were itchy and he wasn't very keen in staying there for hours. Harry and he were on the roof of some vampire dissident's house for the last eighty minutes and he was cold. On the other hand, he knew these charms protected him from the vampires around. The guards were paranoids! So much that the actually checked the presence of heart bits to see if anything living was around (apart from their prisoners of course.)

The vampire they were tracking was a Master around two centuries of age and quite gifted in the art of runes. Luckily Harry's understanding of the subject had been enough to obliterate the detection wards and get them on the roof where they waited for the vampire's return.

They were cold and hungry when the man came back, unfortunately he wasn't alone. A gorgeous woman was holding his arm and laughing quietly at his words. They hadn't known what to do until they saw the fags of said beauty. Harry's face had broken into a huge grin at the possibility of killing to birds with one stone and no amount of persuasion from Griphook could make him budge: they were going or both vampires.

So here they were, waiting for the vampires to finish their… humm… thing, before attacking. Harry summarized they'd fall asleep after their… activity and assured his friend that they wouldn't have to do anything but to bend down and tie the vampires. Griphook wasn't that sure. He didn't know of any escape plan, yet Harry was confident.

Suddenly Harry raised an arm and withdrew both his dagger and wand from their holsters. His hand flashed a signal and he slowly but surely advanced toward the spot where D'Argo was asleep. Griphook joined them and Harry touched them while closing his eyes. A vague sensation of wind around their face was the only indication of movement as their appeared in the bedroom below them.

The Charms around Harry, Griphook, and D'Argo had fallen the second they entered the room and an alarm went on.

"Shit!" Harry cursed loudly as the vampires in the bed in front of him rose immediately. His wand came directly in front of the woman's face. She was the unknown here and he didn't want to take any risk.

"Necro-dormio Tormentis" he hissed. A black curse erupted from his wand and blew the pillow that a fraction of second before was supporting the blood sucker. Unconsciously Harry raised his left arm at shoulder length and took sadistic pleasure in the feeling of flesh impacting against his dagger. He stopped the grin that was threatening to creep on his face. The blade was coaxed with a draught of Living Death, the Mistress vampire didn't have time to say a world before her body came crashing down, a wound on her shoulder as only testament of her defeat in a fight.

Harry quickly turned around. Things weren't good. Griphook was barely holding himself against the Master in a sword fight and three more vampires had erupted in the room. Harry threw his dagger toward one of the guard followed by a powerful healing Charm and rolled on the side bringing his sword with him. As predicted the guard dodged the curse and dagger the only way possible: ending just in front of Harry who flawlessly decapitated him. Blood erupted from the severed neck and drew the attention of the Master and both guards.

Griphook used his opponent's momentum of inadvertence to plunge the tip of his sword in the spinal column of the Master who unable to control his limbs anymore crumbled at his feet.

Harry smirked at the two guards and transferred his gladius in his right hand and his wand in the left. Taking the position of the dance of wand number four, he inclined his head in an invitation to fight. The vampires leapt at him with a roar, but Harry was ready and already moving.

Griphook absently nursed the cut on his forearm while watching the fight with awe. He had seen Harry practice the Dances of the Wand for more than a month. Granted the wizard used practice clothes specially made for him with heavy pieces of metal inserted in them, but there he was going at a speed never seen before.

Harry could feel the sweat falling on his forehead and on his neck. He was going as fast as he could but the vampires were as rapid as him! He knew where they were going to be before they even did but they were prompt enough to block his hits. He was starting to worry when one guard bumped against a table. The split second during which he didn't move was fatal to the vampire: a sword pierce his shoulder and came out around his hip on the other side of his body.

This success gave hope to Harry who pressed his luck and concentrated only on the guard, not even acknowledging Griphook's sign that both Master were secured with handcuffs Harry had previously charmed (luckily he had made three of them).

The vampire was good, but not enough to be faster than Harry who knew the potential moves of his adversary in advance. With vicious pleasure, Harry pushed the guard in a corner where he wouldn't be able to move away from him and knelled him with a Healing Charm at the neck.

The vampire screamed as the curative magic made its way around his decaying flesh. His yells were cut short by an introduction to Harry's gladius. Slowly limping due to a deep cut gained during the fight, the wizard made his way to Griphook. The goblin was waiting for him next to the Masters' unmoving forms, D'Argo between them.

As Harry opened his mouth, half a dozen of other vampires burst into the room. Quickly, Harry established a Protection Ward knowing it would only buy them several seconds of reprise and raced toward his friends, injuries forgotten. Harry raised the unconscious vampires head and slipped a chain around their neck, D'Argo's and Griphook's heads followed suit and Harry gave four turns on his hourglass.

A swirling of colors appeared around the small group. Harry pocket his hourglass when he was sure they were four hours in the past, he made a gesture at Griphook and took the Master vampire's body on his shoulder as he exited the room, Griphook doing the same with the woman. They already knew the majority of the house was desert but didn't want to take any chance. Slowly the three of them made their way toward the entrance. Harry didn't want to Slide again as he didn't know if it was what had triggered the alarms. Luckily they didn't meet any guard; then again Harry had chosen to go back four hours in the past because he knew it was feeding time…

Finally, the small group made it to the doors. As they went to open it a human slave came face to face with them. Griphook nearly got knocked down when he butted against Harry's frame. Harry for his part was smirking.

"Why fancy seeing you here Cormac McLaggen." Harry drawled. "Nice night don't you think so?"

McLaggen was trembling and pointed to the corpse hanging of Harry's shoulder. "The Master… You have the Master" he whispered.

Harry's smirk increased ten fold. "That I do. So what?"

"Let him go" Cormac whispered.

Harry raised his eyebrow. "Let him go? I don't think so. Beside why would I do that? And why can _you_ do about it?"

McLaggen seemed to get out of a trance. "I'll fight you" he said with a more normal voice yet with less strength than expected from a man threatening to fight.

"Would you McLaggen?" Harry asked softly a scary glint in the eyes.

"Yes! I have to pro-" McLaggen answered, but stopped when he saw Harry with more clarity. "You are Harry Potter!"

"That I am. What about you _slave_?" Harry sneered, halfway disgusted by his act and halfway happy to do it. After all this man was part of those who sent him to Azkaban and truth be told he hadn't liked him very much even before.

"I am… I am…I a-" Cormac stuttered but was cut short but an introduction between his skull and the hilt of Harry's dagger.

As Griphook started to pick the lock of the door, Harry hid the unconscious wizard in an alcove far enough from the door to no be smelled by accident yet close enough from the quarters of the other slaves to stop any kind of investigation.

As they made their way out, another slave entered the corridor and kept in calling "Cormac? Cormac?"

Griphook and Harry ran toward the edge of the Anti-Apparition Wards. As they reached it, D'Argo collided with a man in an Invisibly cloak. No losing a second, Griphook secured it and Harry knocked the man unconscious.

Five seconds later they were gone.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Morak entered in the sparring room. As usual he was early. He wanted to have a few hours of training before the arrival of the cadets. His title of Sword Master was still undisputed but he knew he had to keep in shape if he didn't want to fail to retain his position behind the blows of an undisciplined but powerful goblin. 

It was with irritation he noticed someone was already in the room. His irritation transformed in anger when he saw that this person was the wizard and that he was holding his own sword. No goblin would have had the nerve to touch their Master' sword!

He must have made noise when coming in as the wizard turned around and said "It's a pity the mending unbalanced this sword. It's a wonderful weapon."

Morak stopped in his tracks. The wizard held the sword like only a true master with years of practice would do: with reverence but ready to strike in the blink of eye if need be. And he was so good he had managed to notice the light lack of balance in his ancestors' blade.

"How did you notice if I may ask Mr. Potter?" asked the Sword Master.

Harry's cheek tainted a bit.

"Well, I… I wanted to train a bit and found this incredible weapon. After a few minutes I noticed I had troubles doing some movements. That's how I noticed. I hope you're not angry at me? By the way, Harry is fine Sword Master" explained the young man.

The goblin went next to Harry and took the sword from his hands.

"I'm not Harry. I'm delighted someone with your abilities would consider using it. Would you… Would you like to try a friendly spare with me? Merlin knows I desperately need a good fencing" continued Morak "and Morak is fine if you would."

Harry's face lit up. He too needed a good fencing. He had all the knowledge, had practiced countless hours, but lacked in practical spares against a live opponent.

"I'd be delighted Morak."

Ten minutes later Harry knew why the goblin was the Sword Master of his kind. They were equally matched in reflexes, Harry was better in knowledge but Morak was clearly used to sparring. His muscles reacted before the man had even acted. It took all the wizard's techniques and know how of fencing to manage to block his opponent blows. Slowly but surely, Harry improved. He avoided and predicted more attacks: he was building a fighting awareness he desperately needed. Morak seemed to have the time of his life.

When they heard noise, they broke apart. The room was full of cadets. Their faces full of awe for their master and respect for the wizard. Harry and Morak grinned and sheathed their swords.

"Thank you Harry. I didn't have such a challenge since my own master death. I noticed you looked a bit out of practice at the beginning. Would you like us to repeat it again tomorrow morning?"

"I would be delighted Morak. Thank you for this opportunity. You really deserve your title of Sword Master."

Morak inclined his head in thanks as Harry headed toward the exit under the gaze of the cadets.

* * *

The next morning and the followings for the following two months, fighting noises could be heard from the outside. Those who knew some times stopped to watch the show. The others believed the wizard was being ass kicked by their Sword Master. Little did they know that after a few weeks Harry wasn't only practicing but also teaching the old goblin as much as was taught.

* * *

One morning, Morak and Harry didn't fence. The old goblin and Harry couldn't teach each other anything anymore. As Harry was the one who had been teaching the most they had a deal and now was the time for Morak to honor his part of the deal. 

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" said person answered.

"I have checked. You can't make yourself a weapon in here." The goblin explained. He held a hand to stop his fencing partner's reply. "Goblin's metal is already imbued with goblin's magic. It wouldn't work very well for you but I have an alternative."

"What is it?" Harry inquired.

"Our blacksmith owes me a few favors. I managed to make him agree to bring you into dwarf territory. There you'll have the opportunity to make a great weapon for a master as you are, furthermore Klag – that's our blacksmith – will show you how to enchant the blade to make it unbreakable and forever sharp as you requested" continued Morak.

The goblin got up and went to the changing room. Without turning he said "You'll be leaving in half an hour. He'll wait for you outside Griphook's. Good luck with your crafting my friend."

Thirty minutes later, Harry was walking with Klag D'Argo following them as and Hedwig perched one his shoulder as usual. The blacksmith wasn't very talkative but had confessed he was curious to see if the man held in such esteem by the Sword Master was able to make his own weapon. They quickly arrived to the departure station. Two Pegasi were waiting for them.

"They are trained to go from here to the dwarves' entrance and back. Don't do anything, just let them carry you" explained Kalg.

Harry acquiesced. He didn't really like flying on a Pegasus. It reminded him too much of hippogriffs: they weren't comfortable and the wings movements were disturbing. They mounted, secured the dog and they were off. Klag seemed to be sleeping. Harry took out a book on spell crafting with charmed pages not to move unless the user did it and started reading.

After a couple hours of flight, the Pegasi went straight down. Harry was nearly thrown out of his saddle but managed to stay seated especially as a second later they hit the ground. A dwarf was waiting for them. He didn't say anything as they dismounted, picked up their stuffs and went to meet him. He studied Harry for a moment before turning around.

"Follow me and stay close" he barked.

The goblin, the wizard and his menagerie did as asked and after a few minutes found themselves in front of a rock face. Their guide put his hand on the wall and spoke a few words Harry didn't hear. A huge entrance appeared. The dwarf didn't even turn around and walked through it. The small procession minus Hedwig who flew away entered a big chamber the size of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Dozens of tunnels seemed to be starting and finishing there. Harry stopped mesmerized, he wouldn't have imagined such a thing could exist inside, especially from the outside's point of view.

"I said follow me and stay close" growled the dwarf when he noticed he missed one person.

Sheepishly Harry caught up with Klag and their guide. They were led through several corridors before stopping in front of door. Harry could hear the noise of metal even through the thick hard wood. Another dwarf opened and smiled.

"Hello, I was expecting you. I'm Koran" he introduced "You must be Harry?"

Harry nodded a bit intimated by the large 'man' he was facing. Koran was as large as he was tall; even though a height of four feet wasn't tall, having shoulders reaching this size was quite intimidating... His sleeves were rolled up reveling strong arms with the tattoo of an anvil on the left and a hammer on the right. He had white hair that probably was brown once, with a long messy beard he had tucked in his belt; sweat was following for his front and into his light blue eyes. The wizard directly liked him. He had this little something that made someone liked by everyone else.

"Come on in, come on in" invited Koran. "You're here to make a weapon not to stand in front of my smithy."

Harry was staring at the walls lined with axes, swords, daggers and spears when Koran led him to another room.

"This is an old smithy, nobody really use it anymore but it's still in perfect state. Make yourself at home and work as you like on what it is you want."

Apparently Klag and Koran knew each other quite well as they started talking. Harry didn't pay attention. He concentrated for a few minutes on what he knew about sword making and what he wanted to do. Of course he had tried a bit when he was with the goblins but didn't manage anything; which wasn't very surprising if the metal was charmed to only work for and with goblins.

He picked up a few logs of wood and started a fire. He went to retrieve bars of iron, a hammer and some ingredients he had picked in the Black's Family Vault's and closed the door behind him.

During the next hours Harry tried to work the metal but failed. He finally understood why, it was so simple he had overlooked it: the fire wasn't hot enough. He scowled, even with all his knowledge he wasn't able to pick the little things that made the difference between a stick of bad metal and a sword… He increased the heat and started molding his blade, taking great care in infusing magic in the metal as much as he could.

Koran and Klag had stopped talking and came in a few times to stare as Harry stroke the iron, creating a blade, two smaller ones and fifteen other of nothing more than four inches. They had heard his curses a few times and knew the wizard wouldn't succeed. They were astonished to see the apparent ease with which he now produced his blades.

Oblivious to the stares he was receiving, Harry carved runes of 'Return' and 'Possession' in the center of his small blades. This way they would forever return to him, couldn't be used by others nor attracted. He went to the three longest ones and carved long series of identical runes; then plunged all blades under water.

Retrieving a gold and crimson metal from his bag he created two rounds and flats hilts; taking another metal he made another one representing a head. He spent an hour crafting it, without letting his spectators have a look at it. When he moved to the handles, Harry kept on working on this 'head' as it was at the beginning, it was slowly but surely transforming in a beautiful golden and crimson representation of a phoenix in flight.

To the outside eye, it looked like this level of crafting came easily to Harry, but the truth was that sweat was drenching his back and blurring his vision. He was engrossed in his work and that was a good thing: the moment he had forged the three hilts, he stopped and nearly dropped on the floor. Klag and Koran were both asleep in the other room, D'Argo was dozing in a corner of the smithy its paws in the air moving at the rhythm of a dream. Harry checked his watch, he had been crafting for twenty-one hours straight.

Harry poured himself a Pepper-Up potion; when he felt the stamina back in his body he started an important task: applying acid on every and each rune to ensure they'd last and not fade in a few moths. Once this done he fixed hilts and handles.

The weapons finished, Harry conjured a small bed next to his workbench. After a few trials and errors, he managed to get it furnished and got in without bothering to take off his clothes. He hopped the second his head would touch the pillow he would fall asleep in what he hoped would be at least a full day of rest.

Unfortunately, it is well know people rarely got what they hope for, especially when the person's name is Harry Potter and more so when said person has drunk a Pepper-Up potion an hour before… Sleep didn't come at all and Harry was getting frustrated after half and hour of turning around in his bed. Finally not able to stand it anymore he got up, figuring he could try to exhaust himself.

Lighting a small candle Harry proceeded to do some push-ups, but even if it exhausted his muscles it didn't help him to fall asleep. Bored, Harry started to clean his work bench. It's during this tedious task that he noticed the state of the room in itself. There were piles of hastily swept dust and old instrument of blacksmiths that looked positively ancient were in a corner collecting dust and rust. What attracted Harry's eyes were the pictograms on the walls.

Harry hadn't care a lot about it at first, believing them to be nothing more than cute drawing specific to dwarves but with a closer examination he discovered something else. The entire room was covered in runes! They weren't used with a defensive or attacking purpose as their position indicated but were position to write and tell a story. Harry figured he probably had several hours in front of him before anybody came in to check on him and that was if the Klag and Koran woke up which was less than evident considering their exhausted state when they fell asleep.

Harry took a good moment before finding the beginning of the writing and much more to understand the use of these runes as he was sure this was the work of Rune Master but he was one himself and wasn't going to give up. When he finally believed he had enough understanding of this specific set, Harry read the runes and discovered nothing more than instructions on how to create a weapon.

According to the runes, a very old and revered Blacksmith was on his death bed, as the dwarf had spent his entire life trying to create the perfect weapon and believed he had done it, he called for one of his friends. This friend happened to be a Rune Master and he asked him to write the instructions on how to craft this fantastic weapon. He knew that the only person able to do it would have to be both a blacksmith and a Rune Master but he had dreamed of a time long after his own when a person would have both skills.

Harry was clearly bored by this lecture but kept in reading, if only to be able to say that he knew exactly what was on it. It proved to be a grave mistake as the last sentences in runes clearly specified.

* * *

_As I'm not stupid enough to believe that every single person with both the skills to read these sentences and craft what's described on them would want to do it, I have included a Compulsion in the Runes. If you have understood this and are a blacksmith you'll find yourself compelled to craft my piece of art. I only ask your forgiveness for this treachery but do not have any remorse in doing so. May your life be satisfactory._

* * *

Harry had barely finished reading that he knew he had made a very, very big mistake. D'Argo woke up and growled, and the same time Harry couldn't think about doing anything else but forge the weapon. His Occlumency shields were battered by the Compulsion Charm and he could hardly keep his mind straight. The more he resisted the harder it became. Resolving himself to do what magic asked, Harry left his feet drag him toward the pile of wood. 

Sighing Harry added a few logs to the fire and left his hands work on their own as he through about the consequences of this Compulsion Charm.

The way Harry saw there were two options: the Compulsion Charm only concerned the crafting of this weapon and he would be free once it was done, or it included something else. If it was the case there were only two solutions, either Harry dropped his Occlumency shields and reestablished them taking care to totally destroy the hold of the Charm on his mind or he could design a rune annihilating the sequence he had previously read.

As Harry analyzed what he knew of this set of runes to hopefully find or create a counter-rune, he felt magic being drawn from him. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Harry focused on what his hands were doing and so himself imbuing magic in the molten metal. For a second Harry stopped breathing. The runes had been very clear on the steps of this crafting; they also specified that only one metal could be used Mithril. A metal known even to muggles as a legend: nobody had been able to create even a spec of it for centuries and Harry was there doing it himself.

Suddenly he wasn't mad at this old blacksmith anymore. He would have done the same thing: how could you let such knowledge go to waste? Harry knew he wouldn't have bothered to craft another weapon if hadn't been forced to do so.

Finally, after what seemed like hours Harry could look at the item he had made. It was a large hammer on one side with an axe blade on the other. Harry wasn't sure if the weapon was one-handed or two as it didn't seem to have enough room on the handle to hold it with both hands yet again the hilt was large enough to have exactly two hands. It was puzzling: the use with one hand would be hard because of the weight but two hands would limit the abilities provided as the hands would encompass the entire handle blocking any wrist movement. The sides were engraved with powerful runes and a light blue light seemed to go from the bottom of the hilt to the top of the blade. If Harry had to guess I'd say that the weapon, if used correctly, could literally deliver lighting strike. Exhausted and a bit protective of his new weapon, Harry covered it with a dirty sheet and established a protection Ward around it. The wizard dragged himself toward his make-shift bed and collapsed on it without taking his shoes. Sleep came quite easily this time.

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

The young wizard was awoken soon after his departure of the land of dreams: the blacksmiths were exclaiming loudly. Harry checked his watch, he had slept twelve hours and felt as tired as he was when he went to bed, still he got up knowing Koran and Klag wouldn't let him sleep what ever he would do. Both were staring at his sword, daggers and throwing knives: they were magnificent. Smiling Harry asked Klag to enchant his blades to stay sharp and be unbreakable. 

Two hours after getting up, Harry was finally looking at his final work. It was truly a master's work. The sword had a straight twenty-inches-long blade one inch large, with runes carved in the center. The hilt was a jet black with vivid crimson threads. It was a phoenix, its beak open to reveal the blade. Its eyes' sockets were empty, waiting for stones to fill them; same thing for the end of the magical beast: the paws were engulfed in flames, leaving a space for another stone.

Both daggers had ten-inches-long blades shaped like a lighting bolt with the round hilts. Checking their balance Klag unsuccessfully tried to hide a feral grin. Harry wasn't sure why but knew one thing: the goblin approved of his weapons.

"So what do you think?" asked Harry tiredly, one elbow propped on his workbench, playing with one of the throwing knives with his left hand.

Both blacksmiths turned to him with dark expressions, which startled him a bit.

"Don't you plan on making more?" growled Koran.

"Er… No… It's just for me and I don't need more…" Harry answered a bit unsure of himself.

A big grin appeared on the dwarf's face as Klag merely said "Good, I'd hate to have to loose my job because of you. It a piece of art you created Mr. Potter. I guess we'll have to add Blacksmith Master to your other masteries."

Harry blinked. "Why… Thank you, I'm glad you like them, it's the proof there are good weapons. You are the best of your art so I guess I can safely say they are good blades. Right?" he asked a bit unsure.

"Good blades? From what Morak told me you're an expert at handling these. I wouldn't want to be on the other side of your tip" Klag answered warmly while Koran nodded to every word of his colleague.

Harry let loose a breath: these 'men' acknowledgement was what he was looking for. Suddenly he froze. He heard two voices in the corridors coming to them. Even if he couldn't pick up what the first one was saying, he knew this tone and these intonations. The second person spoke confirming his doubts.

"Come on Filius! You hardly come any more. Let's say 'Hello' to Koran. You spent all your time playing pranks on me when two we were kids, he'll like to be able to see you again." Said a booming voice.

"All right, but we have to hurry, I start working again in three days and still have a lot of things to set up" answered a high pitched voice.

The second the workshop's door opened, Harry knew who he would meet and started shakingas a block of memory lessened itself and became accessible once again. He remembered the first prophecy…

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Sighing one of the old men spoke first. 

"I was the first to make an unfulfilled prophecy. It was about my kind and it said:

_Gifted with knowledge beyond his years_

_The chosen will reawaken the old spirit_

_Predicted as a catalyst and leader_

_He will lead the olds toward the new_

_His time hidden will be short…_

_The past in the form of old will find him…_

_And he will be gifted with knowledge long forgotten"_

The old man smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, a part of your life will definitively be dictated by this one."

* * *

..ooOoo..

* * *

Mustering all the Gryffindor courage he could muster Harry turned around and looking strait into the eyes of one of he small men who just entered. 

"Good day Professor Flitwick."

Filius Flitwick stared stupidly in theses bright green eyes, traveling his stare a second to confirm the presence of the cursed scar. He then did the only thing he could think of. He fainted.

Harry for his part didn't know what to do. Was Flitwick related in any way to the prophecy(-ies)? Should he- His contemplations were cut short by Koran's voice.

"Harry! I got you some scabbard for your weapons. Tell me you think of-

Koran stopped on his tracks when he saw the unconscious form of the small Charm Master. "Filius? What happened?" the blacksmith asked Harry.

"Well… Err… The things is… He was my teacher when I was younger and… Well… I… I'm supposed to be dead as far as the Wizarding World is concerned… I guess the shock was too much for him." Harry explained miserably.

Koran nodded. "Oh… Well we should put him on a bed or something."

"I conjured a bed yesterday. It should still be fit." Harry offered.

Upon the dwarf's nod, Harry withdrew his wand and uttered the Levitation Charm, absently smiling at the though of him using a Charm one the man who taught him how to do it.

Klag, Koran, Harry and the prone form of Filius Flitwick entered the room. D'Argo sleepily made his way toward his master as Harry gently lowered his former teacher on the bed.

Koran intensely looking over his childhood friend as Klag was staring at the sheet protecting a part of the workbench from prying eyes.

"Harry?" the goblin asked.

"Hmm?" Harry acknowledged as he covered the Charm Master with a blanket.

"What's under the sheet behind the Protection Charm?"

Koran turned around and looked at the workbench before turning to Harry.

"Something I'd like to know myself Mr. Potter." Koran said with the under-tone of a threat.

Harry gave a strained smile. "No need to get wild guys, it's just a weapon. I don't know what it's for. I just couldn't stop myself from crafting it." Harry explained while canceling the Protection dome.

"The power of the room I guess" Harry added as a private joke as he patted D'Argo.

Preoccupied by his dog, Harry missed the sharp look coming from Koran. However he didn't miss the man's thoughts brought back to him by his incessant Legilimency. He still wasn't able to control his 'mind-reading' ability and it annoyed him a lot, but there it put on edge for Koran was thinking: _'Power of the room? Darn, he seems like a nice guy, I hope he didn't mean it literally…'_

Harry pulled the sheet toward him and saw the weapon without exterior force battling his mind and rested eyes for the first time. It truly was magnificent. The royal blue handle measured seven inches and was made of hundred of small disks of metal ensuring a perfect grip without the risk of letting it drop. The end was indicated by a large sapphire Harry didn't remember taking with him from the Black Vault, but could clearly recall the memory of him withdrawing it from his bottom-less bag. The Hammer side was a big block of shinning metal (Mithril) at least three pounds and ended in a flat square with a five-inch side. The large axe-like blade had a red cutting edge in the form of a six inches arc. The rest ob the blade was filled with small runes giving the impression of a weak and purely decorative weapon; but Harry knew better, he had done the engravings himself and while he didn't know the meaning of the majority of them he quickly identified several ones of dwarves', goblins' and humans' meanings. There were runes to strengthen the metal, keep it sharp, avoid any kind of notch, sharpen the cutting edge as well a very nasty rune ensuring that any and every wound created by the weapon couldn't be healed by magic without worsening it.

Koran stayed stupefied for a second before trying to hold the Hammer; seeing this Harry reacted instantly.

"Don't!" he cried as he tried to stop the dwarf blacksmith. He didn't have a clue of how it was, but he just _knew_ that this Hammer was destined to great things and already attuned to someone.

Harry shouldn't have bothered as the second the blacksmith's hand closed around the pommel, blue lighting coursed the man's body and he let it drop with a small cry. Smug in the knowledge he had crafted the weapon even if hadn't created per say, Harry help the Dwarf back on his feet.

Koran just stared at the Hammer and mumbled "The Hammer of Lighting… The Hammer of Light- GUARDS!"

"What are-"_ you doing?_ Harry tried to ask, but before he could finish his sentence a dozen guards had flood in the room and held Klag and him at spear's point. D'Argo had been knocked down by a sever blow on the head but Harry could still fill their mental connection strong as ever. Dismissing his dog as he couldn't do anything about him, Harry turned interrogatingly toward Koran.

"Lock up these _thieves_ tightly and send a messenger to the King. I have crafted the Hammer of Lightning and wish to present it to him." Koran said smugly.

"As if" Harry whispered wit anger. With a sneer he turned toward the blacksmith. "Only the man destined to battle with it and the one who actually made the weapon can hold it. Good luck in explaining that Koran" Harry said his voice dripping with loathing.

"We shall see, _burglar_" Koran replied with a sneer of his own.

And Harry knew no more as he was knocked down.

* * *

**_I'm back!_**

**_Ok, I know it has been quite a long time... But I wasn't lying when I said I wouldn't drop the story and I plan in finishing it!_**

**_The next chapter will come when it comes, but I passed the 'writer block' and should be able to have it written in a couple of weeks. Until then..._**


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